Each path is lined with lights,
rainbows of pearls spun of a rare essence.
They dance across my palm
as my fingers caress the cool night.

When these delicate jewels drip
from my fingertips
I fling them back into the night
and watch them flutter
like autumn leaves flickering,
into the darkness and out of spotlights.

They descend as scattered wholes and shattered shards
on both the asphalt and my skin.
They shimmer like the endless sea
and sparkle like the limitless sky.

These pieces are warm and familiar,
like the company of an old friend.

Skin cannot tether it to this earth.
Bones cannot confine it to a corporeal cage.
Magic delights in this wild world
and it always calls me home.