POETRY
Remember
I’ve had the word “remember” on my whiteboard in my kitchen for the longest time
No explanation, just the word.
Remember the milk? The eggs? Maybe to take the garbage out?
Only I know the meaning behind it — the power it holds in my body.
Because, for some reason, I’m prone to forgetting.
I forgot to wake up in the middle of the night and stare out the window
to feel the powerful beams of the moon shine onto my pillow
I swear I can feel the rays on my forehead as I count the sheep to sleep.
I forgot to drink tea at night time
the kind that settles into your bones and lulls you to sleep
I forgot to stop. To really. Freaking. Stop. Full Stop.
To sit on the chair, the floor, the deck, the dirt, the mountain, the sea.
To settle the moment into my chest
to feel the air pumping through my lungs
and to observe how my fingers tingle as I return home
how my feet begin to ground
and my head begins to lower
and for just an instance
my heart begins to heal.
I forgot how it feels to hold a pen in my hand
letting thought flow to page
as my brain slowly empties
the pressure releasing from my temples.
I forgot to open my home
to feel the sensations of creation
foods bursting of the colors from my dynamic heart
physical representation of all the love wanting to spill over
but getting stuck in my throat
unsure of how to form the words
There’s something so vulnerable in that
letting people taste your love
watching their faces as each flavor twirls from my heart to theirs
I forgot how to listen
sometimes the quietness invades my solitude
slowly breaks me down; chipping away at my sovereignty
I run, cover up, overstimulate
anything to not hear
that little begging voice
I forgot to eat
To take time out of my day to put life into my body
To carry it into tomorrow
To not only eat but to nourish
to sit down undisturbed
with gratitude in my heart
and grace on my lips.
But then, one day, I remembered
and I listened to hymns while I soaked
allowed their voices to wrap a warm blanket of safety around my heart
the water pulled open my sticky pores
clogged with my own defenses
from all that is holy
they’re infiltrated by the godly voices
begging me to open
to receive
to sink in
and let go.
Twitching
my hands move to hold tight
but instead
they grip her; the resistance
cradling her with all the love they’ve ever known
hoping to melt that into butter
and slather it on my aching body
I read deep into the night
unnoticed hours ticked by
with only the flutter of turning pages
gripped by the excitement of the unknown
to woo me to sleep
I laid in a bed of the softest moss surrounded by zinnias
and allowed the earth to reach up and swaddle me
like a mother would.
I ate cake from the cake pan
freshly baked batter steaming from my fork
warming me from the inside out.
I slathered tahini on my sweet potatoes
and basked in the subtle nuances of sweet bitterness
I waded through my backyard stream
jumping from rock to rock
allowing the childhood excitement to creep through my body.
I heard the echoes of my beating heart in the silence I curated
answering my body’s plea
to remember
please, dear one, remember
remember my holiness
remember my sacredness
remember the nuances of life
of healing
of coming home
of knowing there is a home to come back to inside my body
one that yearns for my presence
I don’t want to forget anymore
I want to wake up and just know
that this body was made for life
