This body made of thought

In this body made of thought

Made of moving, intersecting vertices

Made of whorls of cross connecting vortexes

There is a place unutterably still

A furry animal may curl and rest

So soft, so trusting, so at home

While outside, body moves

As mistress of the winds

Interchanging energetic waves

This body made of thought is hard to size

It sinks into the earth, it kisses skies

It moves with and creates the winds that rise

It’s everything reflected in its eyes

While on the inside, concentrated quiet

A weightless place, where every forming impulse

floats

before its launch in integrated motion

and after it’s received back to its home

It is a new anatomy

What book has shown us this?

And yet we saw it

And we felt it

And we named it what it is

And now that we have named it

We’ll see it more and more

Dynamic body made of thought

And its deep, quiet, potent core.

 © Wendy Mulhern

March 4, 2012