Dear Body December
Thank you, Megan February ('For Women Who Roar', 'Book Year'), for providing the prompts throughout December 2021 for this month-long intuitive writing / body love and appreciation challenge.
.:..:..:..:.
Day 1
Dear Body, (An Opening Letter):
I am still learning to love you wholly and unconditionally, though it becomes a bit easier every day. ... You often know what I need before I know it in mind; when I begin to listen and center my Soul within your capable, caring hands, I recognize all the wisdom you possess.
Dear Body, thank you for never leaving me behind. For continuing onward despite it all; often with splintered and bleeding feet, cracked palms and a dry, constricted throat - you have helped me find my voice again and recognize I am never alone.
Dear Body, with this pact may we begin a new relationship; an infinite prayer of everlasting love.
.:.
Day 2
These Hands
a delicate touch
or a dangerous grip
~these hands have known both~
:: taught to please
and protect ::
collect blood but not break
((inflicting pain on this body
a betrayal and wound
I won't soon forget; scars
become a map these fingers
can trace by heart, even in
the dark))
grasping tight to all
I possess, except
that which I cannot hold
only felt (beyond physical)
these hands tell my stories
fold paper, pull thread
tie rope just tight enough
before the bonds are
> too much <
loop circles, a whirlpool of desires
torn hearts from chests
and the ignition of a flame
one matchbox strike,
a stone on flint
the fires reflected in my eyes
glow golden as you, hands,
dance deftly over the heat,
between and beyond
echoes of memory in your veins.
.:.
Day 3
Hunger
Hunger is our primal instinct alerting our body we need nourishment and energy... for many of us, we have learned to fear hunger and attempt to stifle the intuitive call to eat/nourish. It's the most basic form of nurturing our physical self. Hunger takes us back to our roots, when we had to forage and hunt to survive. In our modern society, we have moved away from this primal instinct but hunger still plays a pivotal role in our lives. If you are accepted (like pack animals), you will be protected, have a higher chance of survival (and more). We hunger for dreams, goals, success. We ache to fill an imaginary (and often very real) void, hungry to prove ourselves worthy and deserving. I hunger to feel alive and cultivate peace within. I hunger for pleasure. I hunger for recognition; to release my poetry into the world to help heal through words and feed the souls of those who find divinity within the words. Hunger takes many forms and patterns - not only for food but a deep ache for love, affection, and to be seen, heard, witnessed....
.:.
Day 4
Wrinkles symbolize wisdom, the lines to mark our most joyful moments as well as all the ways we grow - sometimes painful, this growth. My mother always taught me to put lotion on my skin after every shower, lamenting at the wrinkles around her eyes that symbolize a long-weathered life,. The wrinkles that appear around my eyes, too, tell stories of laughter and joy, stretch marks on my thighs a reminder of all my body has been asked to hold. My wrinkles tell a tale of endurance, a map of emotions long past, or experienced each moment. Pruned skin of my hands wrinkled from water, a long soak and delicate play. We return again to all the memories; trauma wrinkling the skin like paper, origami folds turned into art: a greater mosaic after every shatter. We are glued back together with gold, only wrinkles to reveal our pains. My mother said her body never recovered after childbirth, wrinkles of time patched on her skin. I wish I could trace each wrinkle back to the memory of what made her laugh, what made her cry ... what made her incapable of seeing all the beauty radiating from her skin. ... I notice these wrinkles coming onto my skin as I celebrate my 29th year and all they represent. A life well lived, movement and excitement and love. Loss, too, and the ability to carry on, to love myself with each wrinkle that appears and embrace the wisdom and memories affixed to each one.
.:.
Day 5
Alive, invigorated
The smell of fresh air
fills my lungs
a promise, declaration
to the Freedom,
the thrill of this movement
excitement embodied
>>>love & lust<<<
controlled limbic shapes
a shining shadow
moves alongside,
grip hands and skip
through the forest
large birch trees stretch
and glide....
.:.:.
The way we move is like
a calm stream, delicate motion
controlled as a mirror reflection
(I'll follow you, Body, wherever you go).
the air flowing through my lungs
a warm breath, a cloud of love
billows out to surround us like a
blizzard, gentle and glorious
sweeping us out to sea in a ship
of joy, floating warm and golden
as we greet the horizon, a rainbow
overhead.
.:.
Day 6
My eyes have seen so much, but my favorite thing is the sunsets and sunrises that unfurl like a rose above/below the horizon. folds of color on each new layer, enough to make me breathless, a gentle desire, dreams and heartache; LOVE wrapped into the glorious colors. I dream of seeing the Northern Lights but for now I am content with my Danish sunset over Båring Strand, the crescent moon already risen in the sky, gentle pinks and soft orange setting off the deep blue ocean and suddenly I am tiny; the sky stretching limitless overhead. The sunset we watched over Calton Hill in Edinburgh, my future husband at my side. From that view, you could see the entire city. An awakening, even as the sun gradually lowered itself and we caught the final glimpse of light, clinking beer glasses with fingers linked, precious moments we cherished after living across an ocean.
.:.
Day 7
My heart is set on seeing the world... but I'll settle for simple choice sights that feel sacred to my soul, the ones that live in endless dreams: the Egyptian pyramids and temples, hieroglyphs carved into ancient walls; Greek architecture and the shimmering turquoise waters of the Maldives... Most of all, the swirling, seductive colors of the Aurora Borealis igniting the sky aflame. I want to sway beneath their enchanting dance as it lights up my sight, encompassing and consuming as I join their enchanting dance and breathe in the sharp cold of the Icelandic or Norwegian air. I am a being full of wanderlust and desire; insatiable is this hunger to see it all, experience with my own eyes the great sights that captivate hearts all across the world. For my eyes to hold these cherished sights and find glorious inspiration across the globe...
.:.
Day 8
My body feels like a coiled serpent, ready to strike - power circling in my muscles, begging to be set free; a sturdy oak rising among a forest, swaying in a gentle breeze and whispering my secrets to the wind; a delicate unraveling rope as I puddle to the floor, release the tension of my limbs and break free my bonds which limit free movement... my body feels like a river, satin water flowing as I allow myself to float downstream; a solid rock grounded into the Earth; a mountain rising above desertlands. My body feels like an ocean, waves of emotions dragging me deep, holding me steadfast until I burst free from the surface sputtering love notes as music. My body feels like a map, each scar and mole creates topography to trace, memorize and learn, continually leading me home.
My body tastes like Palo Santo smoke and candles streaming through the air to lie trapped on my skin: warm vanilla and cinnamon. My body tastes of salt from tears and sweat; the deep iron of blood being shed in a new death which evokes rebirth to rise. The taste of dreams if they had a flavor, and desires ready to lift off into the ether.
My body smells like the tang of spice and pine; fresh air caught in strands of my hair from a wintery walk in the woods. The aftermath of a fire lit from within; dragon's breath and lavender oils rubbed into skin.
My body looks like a rose in full-bloom, so very alive with a blush across my cheeks, smooth skin marked by blemishes and scars, imitating beyond the ordinary - freckles that appear more often in summertime, hibernate in winter. My body is a reflection of internal beauty, a shining emblem of hope and all the embers we have walked through; weight appearing again at my waist and thighs. My body looks like an offering to some but to me, it is sanctuary; shelter in every storm.
My body sounds like a drumbeat, each rhythm of my heart vibrating through veins. The breath flowing through throat and lungs a whistle, a rushing stream over rocks worn smooth. My body creaks as I flick each wrist, protests with a whine as I lift it into shape - asanas and mudras to remind me I am sacred as I fold, twist and dance. The steady sound of my feet as they break bread with the earth, the rush of my fingers across the keyboard, a calm lullaby of truth and creation. My body is music, a serenade.
.:.
Day 9
{Trigger Warning: sexual trauma & abuse//self-harm}
My Body Remembers
🔻 [What does your body remember? Whisper to you in the dead of night? Are you listening? Holding space for yourself?] 🔻
(Live reading on my Instagram).
My body remembers a time when it could not relax for a moment, holding tension throughout the day and exhausting itself through trying to protect me. My body remembers being taken as if an object at another's disposal, the pain of deep betrayal and even the hands around my throat. My body has muscle memory and still clenches at the unexpected nearness of strange men... there was a time I did not love or respect my body and gave it willingly, trying to find my own worth in satisfying another's needs. {my body remembers this}. It still recalls the cold tiles of the floor and sharp metallic scissors as I fought against myself. All the earthquakes of tears that once shook me into splitting, shattering and nearly crumbling. My body also remembers the feeling of liberation so strong I swore if I lifted my arms, I would soar into the sky. My body remembers the cradle of my mother's arms wrapped tight around me and how desperately I wanted to stay there. The feeling of shrinking and growing, paralyzed as the room lengthened around me - as if gravity itself had become unhinged; the sparks of fireworks behind my eyelids. My body remembers a time when it was not safe to take up space or speak my mind; a closed throat over my truth that sometimes my tongue still stumbles on.
.:.
Day 10
Dear Body,
I am here. Home. I am safe & secure, and so very loved. I respect this vessel that connects me to the Earth and offer it sustenance. I offer you, dear Body, all you request: nourishment and compassion, gentle understanding. Dear Body, you have carried my soul this far and we still havea much longer path to traverse. I don't expect it to be easy, but I promise to hold you tight as often as you need, to come back to my essence and remember who I am - all you allow me to be, all you offer and grant me. I believe in you, your ability to heal, release and let go all that should be untethered for us to move forward together. I commit myself to you as a partner and friend, as a lover who knows all your deepest desires and secrets.
I whisper to you as we struggle to sleep, rock you with a lullaby and remind you we are safe even when you react to outside triggers, memories of all the times we were not - all the tears we have shed together and all the laughter, too. I hold you tightly, as I offer you infinite friendship and undeniable love. Together, we can combat any challenges that arise. I trust in you, body, and will help you unravel the signals caused by years of trauma, to break down the walls we have built but still uphold careful boundaries, to remind you to open your heart even when you feel safer to close off. I forgive you for all the times I felt you betrayed me and recognize this was never the truth. You have always protected me and fought to keep me safe, grounded and secure.
I love you. I respect you. I will no longer speak negatively to or about you; I will dress your wounds and listen when you tell me what you need. Most of all, I will learn how to listen to that deep intuitive calling of my gut instinct - always steering me in the right direction. I will honor each emotion that arises within you and allow it to pass through, embody it and learn from it to speak with my fear until I fully understand. You are a miracle, and I keep looking elsewhere for the magic, when it's right here before me, reflecting back in the mirror. You offer me this life and I will always be grateful for all you allow me to experience.
.:.
Day 11
My hair waterfalls down my back, ripples in the wind. It calms me like a strand of silk twisted between my fingers. My mother used to tell me I would clutch her hair as a baby for security. Hers was raven-black, now gone silver. Mine is a deep chestnut brown, natural red highlights in the sun. I always wished my hair was curly instead of straight, thicker like my mom and sister, but as I grow older, I also grow to love and cherish my hair. Twirling its strands between my fingers and also loving the hair on my body that is neither worshipped nor accepted. The hair between my legs; once scoffed at and shunned. It is curly and thick, as I once wished my hair could be.
.:.
Day 12
Dear Face,
I love you for all you represent and all you have seen me through. I know you may not be “perfect” but I no longer wish you to be. I love you for each blemish; each freckle and birthmark. I love you for each wrinkle around your eyes. I love the glint in your gaze when you feel excited and the way you have softened, no longer looking so tense and anxious. There is a warmth to you now that was never there before, a confidence in your own ability to heal and overcome intense pain— the trauma once lived in your eyes, in the tense set of your muscles, but now I can see the deep reverence you hold for life. I used to hate gazing upon you but now I love what I see; an ease and peace within yourSelf has changed the way you perceive me to be and all I am willing to do to keep us safe, aligned and grounded.
.:.
Day 13
Dear Teeth,
You were always a source of anxiety and insecurity for me. You wore braces at a young age and then a retainer for many years, but when I was growing up, my two front teeth were completely crooked. I still feel ashamed when I speak about it — I was incredibly self-conscious about my smile and never wanted to show anyone my teeth (you, dear teeth). Even now I hesitate though they are straightened and even my “fang” which has a cap on it (something I resisted at the time— I was in full stage vampire love, but my mom told me I would appreciate having it later, which I suppose I do). I still have a gap on the bottom row of teeth, and have had many teeth pulled over the years. I never liked my teeth but am gradually learning to love you, to allow a full, uninhibited smile to light my face. What joy it brings me and always spreads to others with an authentic smile.
.:.
Day 14
I have always coveted the act of writing by hand; there is nothing quite like it. I used to write out old novels by hand and type them up (since transitioned from this), but still take handwritten notes for all my projects, and have a strong intuitive desire to always begin writing my poetry in my own hand. I used to have a callous on my finger from holding my pen so tight, which has since hardened into a normal feeling for me. I love the flow of handwriting, I have always changed my style throughout the years and feel a deep connection to both the words I write, as well as my body, when I take a pen up in hand and begin to write....
((I also adore the smell of fresh ink on the page, the feeling of words bubbling on the paper as I run my fingers over them.))
.:.
Day 15:
Ode to my Stomach
it hasn't always been easy
to fill you and nourish you
or to feel the cues of hunger
that you send me after years
of not getting enough...
in fact, I would say it's
never been easy at all to
feel joy in filling the endless void
or find worth in discovering food
when you grumble & complain
my first instinct is denial -
the opposite of primal need
to survive; a learned behavior
and now, I am listening to each
cry for attention. I am loving you
even as you grow, and maybe
especially, all the more.
.:.
Day 16:
Wolf & I
.:.
Day 17:
Metamorphose
a renascence of love
as droplets fall upon flesh
dancing beneath thunder, a
lightning flares internal; kindled
by the drops like rain-kisses
invoking my soul to venture out
from her cavern, hollow throat
and open heart to all the world
offers - revived, reincarnated
beneath warm waters, splash of
cold to transform each nerve
into feeling, breathing, exalting
anew. a persistent, tenacious
grip on what it means to cleanse
and restore belief. absolve me
of past sins, transgressions of
self-abandonment; one certainty
I¬/o've discovered without doubt
is who I am, who I want to be
and all I can become.
.:.
Day 18:
'What do you see in me?'
A vulnerable ask (which I first hesitated to share), resulted in some beautiful responses.
I cannot thank all those who commented from the heart enough; the only person I solicited with this question was my partner, and he was at first confused why I was asking. The others came completely unexpected, and filled me with a tone of awe and love - thank you for sharing your light with me, for seeing me, for joining me and being so beautiful yourselves.
My partner: loving, caring, empathetic, humble. 'I admire your spirit that keeps you going when you get knocked down. You're very resilient but don't always recognize how resilient you are.'
Robyn H.: 'I see a powerful, multifaceted beautiful lady, with so much strength as well as softness.'
Neel T.: 'I see but more importantly I feel a beautiful, strong wolfwoman whose howls can beckon any desire to come true if she just believes in herself. Also an empath whose aura heals & spreads rays of hope to those who are around here & understand her beyond the skin.'
Mike C.: 'I see beauty that has not always believed this, who had gone on a inner journey to believe what good people used to tell her that she now allows in. The learnings of her own life are a demonstration for others to love and appreciate every part of their body, especially the flaws showing us the individuality in us all. There was a time this would have been a far distant place and through inner work she made that place the present.'
Ryan: 'I see freedom of self.'
L Sebastienne: 'I see a brave soul pushing back against what her social self has been taught - to be chaste, to be covered, to be shameful, to be augmented, to be starved, to be perfect and available to be dissected by the male gaze, wielded by judgmental and fear filled women. I see all selves acting as one and being whole in her expression. I see a woman. I see a girl and I see her fierce adherence to joy. She takes joy in her body and expresses it like sparks of a fire. I see a goddess and a sweet dear person who is not afraid.'
.:.
Day 19
To My Throat,
Roar of truth splits from my throat, its roots finding home in my belly. I find my voice again and again, after losing what I thought was mine; everything that belonged to me can never be taken away - my voice among the most dear. I always knew I could howl as high and long as any wolf, roar as fierce as any lion, and sing as delicate as a bird - true notes of "I love you", until I found the One to say it to("jeg elsker dig"). Embers from the pit of me rush up and out my throat - I am both fierce and soft as I find my tongue, honest and bold. Even when my voice shakes like the earth trembles, I find my way back home to all I am within, light a steady fire in my gullet and breathe out flames into frosted air.
.:.
Day 20
Serenade to Battle Scars
To the scars that remind me to come home
and the ones that warn me to stay away
from certain crowds that suck my energy;
Each mark upon this skin becomes everlasting,
tells a different story but none more than
the scars that remain invisible, only known
by me: each time my heart shattered and I
repaired it into a mosaic, still whole but just
a little bruised on its surface; the scars
that go deep to my soul for each time I abandoned myself to the darkness
and let my body drown in an ocean of
deep emotions instead of pulling myself
back up again. I used to love the phrase
”scars are like tattoos but with better stories”—
it just took me nearly three decades to realize
we don’t get to choose our scars or what
leaves its mark upon us; we carry on but it’s
always with a sign that a battle was waged—
and won.
.:.
Day 21
Dear 10 Year Old Body,
I know the world feels scary and like you are all alone, but I am here holding you tight and encouraging you to Keep Going. Your reality has crumbled, what you thought to be certain and safe has vanished but you are still very worthy, deserving and loved - more than you know. I will always be here to keep you safe and warm. It is okay to shine, to feel comfortable just as you are, and to not wish yourself to change to fit anyone else's ideals or standards. You are truly beautiful - perfect just as you are. You are a sanctuary when the outer tides become rough, threaten to sweep you away. Find solace in your rhythms, what makes you feel alive: writing novels and stories by hand that transport you to other realms; running and playing in nature - discovering what brings you natural joy (even the delight you feel at gazing into a dancing flame or up at the vast sky full of endless stars which makes you feel so very small). You are not alone. You will be okay.
.:.
Day 22:
When I first got my period,
it was long-awaited, a coveted right of passage... becoming a woman once I bled crimson down my thighs, felt pain bear down in my womb that left me writhing on the bed as my insides twisted. I felt a wave of relief at the first signs of blood spotting panties, as if something was wrong with me up until then. My younger sister got hers first and to me, this meant I was wrong, unworthy, not quite a woman. The sight of blood did not scare me; it sent a thrill through my body... until I learned how painful it was every month. It is only now as an adult entering the final year of my 20’s where I have come to appreciate even this pain; to honor what I am called to do each month (rest, retreat, regenerate often in silent solitude). I speak with my womb and open a sacred river from my heart that it can safely float on; that it can know it is supported and honored just as any other part of me; how vital it is for a new creation of life.
How beautiful to be a woman.
.:.
Day 23:
On the miracle of birth...
My birthday is a wonderful time to reflect on the miracle of birth, what it means to be born into this world. Birthed anew, a new year to accomplish and heal and grow; new ideas to be brought to life and desires to be born into the world.This Saturn return, my Earth day when this soul came to inhabit this body in beautiful sacred triad, born out of galaxies and constellations, of stars - great balls of fiery light and yearning, seeking knowledge and ways to connect and expand, to come back to life and Earth, find solace in the miracle of our existence and our own creation— all it means to be human, fierce and fragile and bold. I hope to birth many new projects and endeavors in this 29th year. . . I am so different than I was a year ago; this passage of life, all I have discovered this year that lights me aflame, blazing my truth. Most of all, the lesson: never abandon yourself again, at any cost. I’ve learned my worth and all I deserve.
.:.
Day 24:
My heart as a fortress...
My heart is open like a rose but holds many thorns in place. The barbs are meant to keep predators at bay, monsters eager to tear into the soft heart's flesh and gorge until they are full of my dreams and desires, draining the love from this organ. Sometimes the thorns keep out those who I most want to let in, and this is when the protection equals closing off my heart, digging a mote around where I once freely offered infinite love. There are still memories kept like prisoners in the dungeon of my heart (throw away the key), lost lovers who broke my trust and left my heart in pieces but I also betrayed myself in the offering. The boundaries I place now to keep my demons at bay; so many memories I wish to exorcise, No more will I allow them to rampage my heart; no longer will they have any reign.
Even those who masquerade as knights in shining armor will be banished from the kingdom of my heart. Those who would show love and affection but always leave me waiting in the dust - a desert rose biding my time for a drop of rain.... I choose to nourish my open heart with those who care for it properly, who hold a key to this fortress yet have never used it in vain. The king of my heart will forever hold his place, never asked to prove himself like a jester to the courtiers. I am his Queen and together we rule a world of our own manifestation. I ask only now that I recognize my own Divinity, the royal spot I declare in this world as I offer to keep the gates to my heart open... only for those who know my worth and hold no ill intentions of destroying this self-made kingdom or bringing down its Queen.
"ONLY YOU CAN CROWN YOURSELF!"
- GURU JAGAT
.:.
Day 25:
A Blessing to Body
I bless you, Body, and all you carry.
I bless your mind and heart, which keeps you open. I bless your resilience and all you have journeyed through. I bless you for all the experiences you hold, and all those you have yet to experience. As we prepare to enter a new year, I bless you, Body, and all you do not ask for. I bless you beneath the sun and beneath the moon, within the rains and stormy weather as well as the calm peaceful days. I bless each step you take. I bless all of your desires and throw them to the Universe. I bless you, wholly and without judgment.
.:.
Day 26:
Skin as a Sacred Sheath
My skin has always been sensitive, breaking out in hives when I brush against blue spruce (familiar of juniper) and cornfields. . . I can feel the brush of fingers across skin like lightning striking - a defense mechanism to keep my body safe from further harm. I once was teased for my freckles but my grandma calls them “Angel kisses,” marking all the places I’ve been brushed by Divine light that soaks deep into the skin. This skin, so valuable as a shield (a sacred sheath) to all we wage war against, and so fragile, vulnerable and easy to break. It carries us through many battles, holds us together and keeps all that is worthy close and safe. The cold kisses skin with a frantic chill; but I am lit with Phoenix fire within. Each beauty/birthmark upon my skin charts a map across the ocean, constellations across the sky. I may have uncharted territory but each length of skin belongs to me, always has and always will.
.:.
Day 27:
Dear Little One,
It will all be okay, as it is meant to be. All the stress you hold in your body now will one day become understood and nourished. The need you feel to protect and help raise your tiny sister, to keep her from harm too, is natural for all you have both endured, but it does not have to consume or define you. You will come through all the dark, seemingly endless passages. What you go through and what you have already been through does not have to define you. You are so much bigger, stronger and more beautiful than you believe, and one day you will come to recognize all there is to cherish within you. You don’t need to have it all figured out just yet, but hold yourself tight and always be gentle, loving and compassionate. You are a wonder; a miracle born to this earth. You will learn how to heal. You will learn so much, and you are incredibly brave. You possess all you need within you; trust in that power - it will lead you home. Every time you lose yourself and your way, you will find your way back.
.:.
Day 28:
Sex
Sex has never been easy for me; in my early years and first relationship, I allowed my kinkiness to shine through, wrapped together in a bundle of lust on the floor of his childhood bedroom— yet we never quite went all the way, I always wanted him to be my “first”; he was, in nearly every other way. And after I ran away and broke his heart, I fell into a toxic pattern of bad, abusive relationships where sex came to feel like a transaction. Something I knew was needed or expected, yet never fully satisfying for me or enthusiastic. The worst of them sent me into a spiral where sex meant pain, sex meant violation and distrust, loss of self-respect in my body… and then. I met a man who treated sex as an act to be carefully entered into (even though the first weekend we spent together right after meeting, he took his pants off right in front of me to change for work— we had a natural comfort and authenticity with each other) but I didn’t reveal to him my traumatic history with sex until much later, unable to find the words on my tongue.
My trauma is one thing I still struggle to speak of, though he knows enough to understand that sex is difficult for me. A big thing I am working on, because there is such a beautiful and intimate connection that happens when we fully release and allow ourselves to enter this divine communion. A place where we can be safe together, as our bodies join, as our souls dance, and our breath hitches in our throat and releases in wild expulsion of pleasure. Sex is now a reclamation of control and power, no longer something I give freely in desperate attempts to take back my control of my body but something I honor, something I covet in the divine exchange of sacred sexual energy.
The power in fully untethering yourself and all judgment from the act of finding passion and pleasure; a liberation of flesh and wildness, a joy of overcoming and healing the heart, opening mind body & soul to another as we meet in skin and sweat and hot breath. Ecstatic moans and gripped hair and rough fingernails down a hairy chest. Delicate kisses along collarbones and a finger circling the kundalini center of my lower back. An opening, an offering, a release and rejuvenation. Of all that was one lost and taken from me but has started to be found again.
.:.
Day 29:
Gratitude List to my Body:
I am grateful for my mind, my head that holds my brain and all my ideas;
my eyes that see and behold this world and the greater universe;
my nose that smells my favorite scents;
my mouth that has the ability to taste as well as speak;
my ears that give me the ability to hear beautiful birdsong and all this world offers.
I am grateful for my throat that vocalizes my words and tells my story;
my chest that gives my heart a home.
My breasts that bloom like rosebuds;
my shoulders that carry a weight.
My spine that holds me up.
My fingers that write beautiful words and bring poetry to my universe.
My stomach that nourishes me.
My pussy that allows life and luxurious pleasure.
My feet that take me places.
.:.
Day 30:
My Body is Saying...
my body is saying be kind
practice compassion in every move
be gentle to me; respect me and
hold me with complete love
the universe is saying be aware
practice mindful manifestation
in every thought & breath
there is not always a reason
but there is always a lesson
my body says listen & I will
tell you all our secrets
I will hold you when everything else
floats away like a fierce waterfall
I will be here always to cradle your
Soul; to guide you home
my body is saying welcome, I am
glad you are here. Stay awhile,
we will discuss Hope and how to
Believe in our abilities.
[thank you to Dr. Thema for reading this poem on her Homecoming podcast,
Jan. 9, 2022 - episode 132.]
.:.
Day 31:
Dear Body, (a closing letter)
Thank you for going with me on this journey. Together, we have accomplished another round of life and love; we will cherish these moments and lessons for years to come. Dear Body, you have offered me so much and I know there will be more. I am so grateful for all you have given me, continue to give, and all you have been able to endure. Here’s to a new year of accessing our deepest pleasures; learning how to capture embodiment and how to begin a new world, at the tip of our fingers, how to manifest a new reality just waiting to be experienced. The world is waiting and we are ready, dear Body, to face it now for all the heartache and all the changes, we will be prepared and we possess all the knowledge we need. Dear Body, you are the best gift I have ever received. Thank you, for everything.I love you without limits.
