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  • witbybrit

Her Body Knew

It began as a whisper,

a trickle.

Like raindrops in April

running down her leg.

It's time

her body told her.


Small steps,

baby steps at first...

easing the mind,

for her body knew of their history.


Approach gently,

with caution,

because

transformation was coming.


The waves appeared

as tides under moonlight.

In harmony

with the sway of her hips.

She was rocking and breathing,

and most importantly

listening.


Listening to her legs,

we will support you

Listening to her hands,

we will hold you

Listening to her womb,

you can trust me

Listening to her heart

you are ready


Her body had told her things before

in a different life

in a different way

and she hadn't always listened


But on this day,

her body and her mind

searched for each other

in the dark.

Calmly sifting through things that didn't belong.

Like fear

Like doubt

They had longed to be reunited in this way,

in the quiet,

before the storm.


Night turned to dawn

and under cloud cover at daybreak,

they coalesced with a compromise.

One last order from the mind,

and her body would

take it from there.


So she made the call

to embrace

the beautiful madness

of birth

break my fore-waters


The raindrops became a rainstorm.

The fluid stained,

as if those things in the darkness

were finally released.


Thunder and lightning within her,

she had to surrender now,

and trust,

and relinquish the control

that she had always thought she needed.


Her body knew it had this chance

to prove to her

it knew exactly what it was doing


It brought her to the very edge,

a place she knew existed,

the brink of her mind,

where her thoughts

bounded by doubt

used to plague her.

She had been there

many times.

And her body knew the power

that lived there.

It whispered to her,

through the wildness

Only this time you will fly


And then her son,

cradled by her body,

treasured by her mind,

emerged gently from the storm.

And just like that,

the clouds departed.


The rubble that was left,

already being pieced back together.

Building a mother,

from the fragments,

of a warrior.

And she didn't have to think about it

because her body had her,


it had always had her.








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