the second day of forty-three
by Bryonie Wise
I have been asking myself the questions:
Where am I living?
What am I doing?
What are my relationships?
Am I in the right relationship?
Where is my water?
The answers are clear: this is my remembering.
I have been sitting and stilling and breathing into corners of myself that had hoped to be forgotten.
The parts who secretly pray I will see them and love them more and more.
The parts that want to cling onto the shore, I gently peel one finger away at a time until I am the river and the river is me.
Aging is fascinating, beautiful and extraordinarily complex.
It’s tender and obscure.
I sometime ago unsubscribed from the myth that getting older means I fight tooth and bone to look young.
I long ago declared my own sovereignty into how I approach the numbers increasing.
Gift me all of it.
The shifting body, the reshaping of wisdom.
Let me age gracefully.
Let me age with love and grit.
Let my mind and heart stay intact.
Let me receive each year as it comes.
Let me cry the tears to water the garden.
Let my heart break so she can continue to open.
Let joy storm through the doors and fling open the windows.
This is the second day of forty-three.
Thank you to infinity and the cosmos beyond on for loving me and for being here.
The power of our togetherness is the greatest love of all.