this morning
i do not force myself

i listen to my body
as it expresses itself

i sit by myself
in green grass
beneath living tree
mist kissing skin
and flesh
and soul

and i allow my body
to speak
to confess
to complain

i allow it its agonies
i allow it its revelries

this is a solitude
i must embrace
as long, as winding
as it may be

i do


there are
no elegant shortcuts