Becoming the Poet of Yourself*
What wisdom does the body hold that we are missing out on?
What information within feeling are we bypassing daily?
Is a body embodied the gift we've forgotten?
Would the choice of awareness that our body is sharing,
Help us feel in our cells, in our heart, in our belly when something is
What do you long for?
What does anxious feel like?
How do you know when your hearts had enough?
I long for the words that I speak to be in alignment with how I truly feel
and what I actually want.
Because when they don’t I feel anxious; a restless tiger in the pit of my
And when I can’t talk but I can cry then my heart, my nerves, my mind's
When we move do we listen to the sounds of our body;
The tingly, numbness, churning and vast?
Do we realise when we practise
If we consistently listen,
That there’s information that is golden in helping us see,
Who we are, where we stand, what we’re not, what we need?
I long for my practise to provide space for exploration, understanding
and personal growth.
Because with unawareness, I unknowingly close the book of my body.
I can’t read the pages of others, I ignore the needs of our earth.
I want to know.
I want to know all of it.
My experience of what’s happening on a sensory level.
Because in both asana and posture,
On my mat/with another,
My body is being,
It's intricate science,
A poet ready to be.
It’s waiting to stand tall when I need to,
It’s bursting to breath slowly because it knows this will help,
It’s waiting for a plan to be made in response to the pain
At the start not when its drastic, desperate and damned.
The inner to the outer,
To the other
To the gift
The data filled feeling
That by naming we discover
There's potential coherence
Between sensory feeling and our words in response.