This body, that I don’t stretch as often as I intend to, really really likes it when I do. Even now, sitting here, my toes find their way in and out, curling now and then, as though we’re practicing for the day we remember how to fly. Because things that fly must land now and again to remind themselves how it feels to be grounded.
These legs that feel amazing when they feel sun on them, that I’ve got wrapped in fleece right now, with an i.o.u in the pocket for a lazy sun sunday sometime. With knees that pop when climbing stairs, as though to feel like we’re practicing for altitude, up or down matters not, by displacing air.
These hands that know well how to hold a pen, even if it’s not exactly as my grandmother believed one should hold a pen (what are they teaching you in school these days, if not how to hold a pen!), and are happy to cramp up from the act of scribbling my mind’s eye on dead trees because maybe there will be massages?
Arms that want to squish, to emulate wind and swoop, to wrap and weave and weigh themselves down with a load we’re confident we can carry.
Feet, bare or clad in shoes, could teach arms a thing or two about carrying weight. And dancing. And the moon. No one understands the moon as well as bare feet.
This face that looks at itself in the mirror and feels so familiar that sometimes it doesn’t recognize itself as being worthy of perused. That loves to be woken up with a damn warm close to hot facecloth especially on sinus days. That has freckles it forgets about until that sunny day i.o.u is cashed in (oh yeah! on my nose!). That has it on very good authority, confirmation that it is a cute face, with wrinkles packed with laughter and lines that spell out secrets that aren’t very secret at all because face gives it away every time with the way it can’t help but smile.
This head that is sometimes stood on because feet get tired and head enjoys a good dizzy now and then. Head that is firmly attached even when it’s running away with itself. Head that recently remembered to let heart know what it’s thinking, and discovered that yes, they are on the same page of a very lovely story.
Mind that appreciates head, even when it forgets to pay the rent. Mind that could be more self aware, full of itself, mindful of mind. As well as the rest. And probably needs to get out more, it does spend a lot of time indoors with it’s own thoughts, forgetting that thoughts unshared have no chance to bloom unless exhaled calmly, as with breath.
Heart that beats to a rhythm constant and subjective. An organ that if asked, what letter would you most like be used to describe you, would choose yes.
This heart is my own and the better for sharing.