There is an ache. A loss of something I'd never even noticed was there.
Only one foot is left on the ground; the other can find no purchase; no rock, no water, no cloud. I look down to find something, anything, to steady myself upon, but though the imbalance is enough to throw me hard into the darkest gravity, my attention instead is pulled away by something else. Something new. Something silent.
Like the smoke of a candle, the steam of a cup of tea, light is trailing away from me. My chest is torn open.
And yet, even as I feel the wind growing, whipping, roaring around me, a beast of so many teeth, claws and thunder...I feel calm.
Light flows freely, softly, slowly, untouched by the storm, and though a piece of me is flowing away with it, there is some kind of stillness. Some kind of knowing, some kind of assurance. And the pain of what is being pulled away seems cooled and soothed by its very passing.
And then, I find, I am balanced on one leg.
