Tingling
Pin pricks wake
Ankle
Then shoulder
A flurry across breast
The ache, deep and ancient
Starts throbbing
Gluteal
Hovering
Circling
Around root
Root of old
Old patterns
Root of old
Flayed heartskin
Root of old intrusions
Violations
Grievances long thought
Gone
.
No
Tingling
Pin prickling
Awake
Awake
Searching for those tendrils
Tugging here, there
Responses of pain
Responses of the old
Right where its always been
.
Sometimes
The spelunking gets so deep
The pain keeps awake, a fasting dreamtime
Tossing and turning
Trying to find a way…away
.
This body
This dear and sacred body
Lets up eventually
Scabbing over
But dutifully it returns
To encourage again
One more time
Maybe she’ll listen
Maybe we’ll express
Maybe
This time
Our message will get delivered
Heard by elder, tribe
.
Tingling
Pins and prickling
Emerging from space
Once silent
Once big enough
Now imprisoned
Seeking expression
Nervous tendrils
Waking
Waking
Hoping
Can nerves hope?
Can chakras desire?
Can exponentially ancient wounds
Ever really heal?
.
I feel the tingling
Pinprickling
Waking
Reminding
Re-membering
And hope that this time
Turning towards them
Will finally allow
Hoping this time
Instead of crumbling into
Terrors of porous mistakes
Hoping this time
The container will hold
The screams will release
Hoping this time
The old, weary pain
Accompanied
Psychopomp guiding
Into a new place
Into the distance
Into the great halls, honoring
Beyond
Letting Go 