
I feel the soft whisper of air on skin
As I hold my morning coffee
I feel the warm comfort of the cup
As I taste the frothy chocolately sweetness of the foam
Passing nearby I hear
Retreating steps clickety clacking their concertina stacato
Along a pavement dusted with autumn leaves
As I taste the sweet doughy softness of a cinnamon donut
And relish each mouthful with intention
I watch children running past
In excited jubliation and anticipation of a holiday film
As I hear the noise of passing truck
I think how lovely it feels to be present in my body
I write as a poet must
Not only out of choice but out of necessity
I feel gratitude for the gifts of a day
That for so many years it was impossible
To fully see, hear, feel or touch in a body
Awake to life
(one of the most painful consequences of PTSD or Complex PTSD is a dissociation from the sensations in our body… coming to notice and bear with sensation and accepting our human body as feeling and alive in the midst of a fully sensate world we so often could not control is a sign of healing and repair)
“I think how lovely it feels to be present in my body” is the gist of this beautiful poem. And it should be a lesson for most of us to abide by. I know I forget too often, when i should be appreciating the ability to do so.
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Bless you, I do believe in our society we are often taught to over ride the body or just get disconnected without knowing it. I am glad if spoke to you…
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You did.
Peace
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