I awoke
And for seemingly no reason,
It was clear:
This body is still alive
Because it has something to offer
Today.
This Truth arose from within,
A reminder
Of the once-known wisdom
in every child:
Enter your day
Like you once entered this life—
With a mandate.
We are each a vessel—
A particular tone of
Vibrancy in Life's palette.
A symphonic note, an exotic flavor—
But what turned the curry bland,
What robbed the bizcochito
Of its sweetness?
This body is pregnant
Not only with consciousness,
But also with the pain,
loss, and misunderstanding—
A cadre of ancestors.
They say that patterns continue
Until someone in the line
Is willing to feel them.
I am willing to feel.
I accept my mandate
Of embodying alchemy,
Of transmuting shame,
Of bearing its child—
The tissues of my body hang
Like soaked clothing
Following the storm
That has raged across generations.
Others have sought refuge without,
Rather than within.
But you cannot do the work
Of the crucible
Without facing the fire.
So I will feel.
So our ancestors,
And our children,
Of body and of spirit,
May readily know
Their original
Pristine and placid
Heart.
