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.