It is not easy to dance with a god:
Spirit condensed to mortal flesh
is frail, a fragile vessel for the fire
that leaps from the heart, leaps
from hill to hill without failing.
A god has no flesh and leaps like fire
light enough to light on a bubble
neither breaking nor bursting.
A god does not mind the edge
of cliffs—no gravity bounds their dancing—
but when they call you
can you remember not to mind?
There is a moment, fragile as foam’s froth
when your foot falls on air
and you don’t yet know if you’re falling
And that is the most important step.