Suits meet, banter about deals,
conspiratorial heads bent, deep
throaty laughs, confidence reeking.
I glide by, imperceptibly, am a whisper
on the window of their intensity.
Families congregate on front lawns,
squeals of delight trailing blurs,
adult murmurs lost in shrill echoes.
I float on by, an ethereal witness,
no more than the wisp of a cloud.
Only a dog, unleashed, catches
a whiff of something inexplicable,
gives chase, nips at nothingness.
I am elusive, lacking substance,
he retreats bewildered, interest lost.
Am I somehow flawed, I wonder
aloud to the gathering of females
draped across my bed, intrigued
Have landed now, solidly connected
to this other-abled reality, grounded.
Intimate discussions of life’s mystery
peaks interest, all want to learn to fly,
beg me to demonstrate, inspired to try.
Detachment is the secret, I reveal;
just launch yourself and release.
Instincts grasp to offer support,
arms reaching out in assistance,
roots hindering their deliverance.
Alone, I swirl above reeling minds
dissolve into the mist, am free.
(It’s poetics night at dVerse and our host, Gina, asks us to consider our poetic hum – what duality we lead.  For three years, I lived an isolated, bedridden existence, while the rest of the world hummed along (pun intended).  It was fertile ground for writing.  The poem, Levitating, was written 3 years ago, and immediately came to mind when I read the prompt.)
One Woman's Quest 