The Body’s Prayer

The knees fold 

like closing a book,

the forehead draws toward the ground

the round of the back the momentary shelter, 

for the conversation with Self.

Where the silence is pregnant--

a womb for the deepest yearnings of the soul,

labored and birthed here

not answered

but brought to life,

breathed into:

nurtured.

For when the gravity 

of this life becomes 

Gravare/ grief,

Heavy

Weighed down.

We are reminded of our substance

that in this moment, we are solid, 

even when that around us is fading,

or when that someone,

or some part of our self is fading .

Our grief brings us down to earth

to the soil,

to the Mother of it all. 

And to touch the Earth is

to feel the veins of our feet 

meet the veins of the earth,

and to know that we are a part of her;

she holds our heavy too. 

And so we breathe light

into the heavy

where a gentle breeze enters 

drawing out the clouded exhale

making space for the next inhale

to inspire 

to breathe fully.

Remembering our wholeness,

we breathe fully,

and grief can take our breath away.

But so can beauty

and awe,

so give yourself that breath

this one

and that one too,

give yourself that fullness

to be.

The cushions of the fingertips

graze their counterparts,

the palms touching,

touched by the warm air

from the body breathing

the body's prayer,

the body is a prayer.