It's Been 10 Days
I go from the bed to the window
from the window to the door
because when the mind is haunted
the body still knows.
My skin has been
turning into air-
holding everything and
nothing.
Not my bones.
Not my blood.
Not my muscle.
Certainly not my
self.
The weight is still too much.
If I could stop this
I would.
If I could understand this
I would.
But the mind knows nothing
so I follow the body
light as it is
out to the porch
and into the sun
where there are
a million mornings
pressed into earth.
This comforts me.
This I can see.
I can make sense of the
sparrows and the sky
the secret language
of trees
the sound of leaves
touching each other's spines.
The way the dog howls
at the fence
the shifting of
hours
wandering into
the moon.
This, my body knows.
So I lay down on the ground
and let nature remind me who I am.
My mother calls me from the kitchen.
She still has her mind
and so it is always working-
supper time
bath time
bedtime.
None of that matters,
I whisper to myself.
Fasten yourself to the earth.
Remember who you are.