The logic is irrefutable

These are my appendages

They are mine alone

And it is my prerogative

To move them in whichever direction

I deem appropriate


A twist of my stem

Lends fuel to my being

How is that different?

Which of us

Is not dependent upon a source

That is external?


A belief in Order

Is not to be depreciated.

Motion of this especial sort

Is actually a kind of wisdom,

And is in my way of announcing

That I am at one with the universe.