I watched her turn. I watched her spin. I watched her joyful soul whirl so fast that light glimmered and shot from her shoulders. Her eyes were wide and open, hungry and fixed, but upon what I could not tell. As she spun I watched her forget her shoes, forget her clothes, her hands, her face, then forget her very mind. I watched as she turned and spun upon the heel of delight and its fierce hunger. Her prayer became wide, yet without word or form, until the nobility of Light was made her own. Yet within she was still.
Being lifted from the fabric of time and material, the spindle of love had let loose the thread that contained it, and liberated from longing and its marriage to image, the shores of simple glory began to shine. No memory, no philosophy, not even a convoy of dreams could contain this woman now undone from her small self. Yet even though her heart leapt with an eruption of light, she remained calm.
Then in a moment she came to rest and her eyes looked upon mine, smiling with the knowledge that only kindness can bring. It was then that I became still and began to slowly turn.