The Dance

Going through my files, found some old poetry I wrote in the 1990's:

In shock
Old self is dead
Need time
To sit back and allow time
To take new shape.
Molecules will arrange themselves
In new form. just let it happen.
Male and female in one, as one
The Soul has no gender
The outer appearance is just a consequence
of genetic arrangement.
Observe the birth of who I am
Ethereal forms dancing,
moving in perfect synchronicity
Shaping into new form,
Moving in perfect harmony,
Each molecule of energy
Knows exactly where to go
Searching its new place
Its new partner.
It has happened,
I am here.

Amayah

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