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.