Glorious body allows me to touch the dewy clover, noticing changes in temperature, aridity; fingers
interwoven in blades of grass, in petals of greenearthmatter.
Receptive body gives me the only chance I have to smell and then remember an echo of some other
flowery time, sweet and exhilarating, from my early littlegirlness.
Listening body
waits for that new nest in the carport to explode in soundwaves, singing?
recounting the day? reverberating along cement and wood structures. And that
hummingbird who just arrived – his beating movement.dull-but-audible-sound the
only alert to her presence.
Savory bodytongue salivates wet down my chin as the sliced
avocado, fruit of this tree rooted under my feet, yellow olive green flesh is
scooped out soft rich oily and feeds my own anticipating corpus. The taste an opening of heaven, a
walkthroughparadise.
Enthusiastic body giggles with the everfluid sunset,
sunrise, hovering, watching over, tending, making seamless and delightful all
that lives beneath its light. Rudefreewayfades as sight moves toward sky opening in tenderwavesofcolor, lumpy and
intensifying like oil pastels but better because I cannot see the Artist’s hand
move.
I am just in this full fleshy earthandsoilandsaltwaterandstargems
body as a bliss. As perfection. As joy. As the prickling pierces of fine.point.sorrow.
As a fleeting being, then shadow, then memory, then whisper, then nothing. But
for just this one small glimpse at life that I wake up to each morning in the
breezy cold before dawn - I will laugh or cry, find silliness or profundity,
and move through the earth, on the soils of this land that hold, feed, hug,
sing and make beauty just by Being.
Birds.Snails.Poppies.Bark.Riverwater.Wind.Leaves-scooped-by-ritualmaking-hands-into-humps-of-pathways-that-become-the-defining-edges-of-a-spiral.
Held by the sustaining warmth of the sun and the midnight
bloodred eclipsed full moon that hovers watches tends makesWHOLE the expanse of
my sleepy jacketoverpajamas donned for midnightthirty heavens-watching body. I
will wake up again. I will touch&smell&hear&taste&see. I will
use all those senses that just this body gives me and move my legs over the
hilly landscape of breathing life that is my resting place.
All blog images created &/or photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Images to be circulated only with photo credit: "©2014 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
