What a Gift

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Right hand on left
Left hand quietly jumping
With each beat of my heart
Chaos swirling abound
I craved grounding in the physical
The warmth melts me
The pulse resonates through my hands
And like cursive embedded in every fold
It reminds me what a gift it is
To exist
Mind quiet now
Same hands upon same heart
Behind the pulse
The cursive unfolds
Exposing the most experientially potent energy
Awe spun words hang from my lips
As I try to translate the potency
The beauty
Into this tangible yet limiting language
Each curve of each letter
A different emotion, memory, trauma
Millions of fleshy micro tears
Learning growth
Giving rise to its strength
And I feel the systematic resonance now
Out it pours wisdom
It reminds me what a gift it is
To have been broken
Mind open now
Same hands opened to same heart
I welcome exploration
The cursive speaks in texture
And energetic imprints
Scars embed every letter
And every fold
Curious of its healing source
Yet knowing it’s the same one responsible
For the quiet rise and fall of my chest
The warmth behind it
And every speck of energy within
Now
I crave my grounding up here
Out here where I am seemingly not grounded at all
And it reminds me what a gift it is
To not have love
But to be it

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