Jedi

In her thoughts the sword takes the place of light.
Through each shining corridor of plastic – flows
this thing we call our movement but is one;
the blueness and the redness cancel out here
and everything bathes in sparks and faint pastel
glow. Years of training, tribulation has led
to the point where each prediction unfolds
hyperdriven stars of prediction. And she knows
all coordinates in the force indicate this one point.
Where time moves and vanishes. It is life.
Or an end if you want to call it that. This light
side her opponent cannot grasp. Snapped in
on the moment too much and the feel of sword
cutting through metal and skin. There is more
to a fight than winning it. That is the dull phrase
but more. Gaining from this loss all the power
by choosing to elevate choice into its finale.
To a watcher this fight is not spectacular unless
you know each feint, each test contains millennia.
This is the secret the ones in black cannot grasp
confined to the red lights of this world by greed
fear, anger, hate, suffering. The light side has this
but not just this. Watch as the robe hits the floor.
And a million new hopes soon unfold from it.

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