A Letter from the Soul to the Body
You spoke today into being.
That’s half the battle won.
You are tempestuous, afro in a rain storm,
lightning bolt cutters.
YOU ARE LOUD.
You are heard.
You are RESISTANCE.
You are feeling EVERYTHING.
You are taking up space, and better for it.
You are the ant that makes its presence known
the elephant that sees life on a flower
you are universal.
Demand life from yourself.
You are broken arm rainbows,
eight shades of chipped beauty–the profit of life’s nonsense,
you are not going gentle into that good night, you burn white-hot, you are light,
you are not a child.
You are the art of never running
you are all the days that led up to today, the hot, the cold:
you are a place beyond infinity—a place beyond words.
Dearest love of my life,
Dear only one I have,
You are not on your own.
Editor’s Note: Sharp imagery and interesting line lengths give this poem energy. My brain is still trying to visualize “broken arm rainbows” — not an unpleasant way to spend a half hour. Dear Irene: keep writing poems.