Down the Hill
        With leaps and bounds and thumpingly great
                  Enthusiasm for existence itself and the grandiose beauty of the world
                          He runs, knowing not to ever stop because that's when the people come and
                                   Snap on your leash.
So he gallops forth into
         The vast expanse of the neighborhood without
                  Caring that the people will be mad. He snorts and sniffs his
                          Hound-dog nose and howls at all the Love and Injustice in the universe
                                    All at once.
Logic is not the strong suit
        Of dogs, which is fortunate for him because
                 Knowing brings pain and responsibility and who would not
                          Rather be a dog in a fall afternoon chasing nothing save destiny and joy
                                    Until the end?

There was once a fairy who moved
In a blue-black vacuum blur, as though she owned
The absence of things and the line separating it all.
She walked thumpingly, never believing her feet
Would hit the ground, forever forgetting
The prison of her human body.

She grew, once; a fairy who moved
On a true tack towards the world below.
The absence of magic startled her so that she rejected
The line separating it all. She gave selflessly, emptying
Her magic to the earth, through
The prism of her human body.