darling one—
you precious mess—
you exhausted, grieving, hollowed, hallowed, hallelujah of a human—
today, if even for a moment, may you feel:
your own beating heart
your own courageous coeur
your chest rising and falling with breath
which is spirit
which is lifeforce
keeping pulse
marking time
finding space—
regardless of how you are feeling
no matter what you are capable of
or not—
and, just for a moment
may you find rest
a bit of ease, held
in that sacred rhythm
that cannot be
without you
because you, you precious mess,
have breath and heart and lifeforce
pulsing through you, yet.
anna blaedel