Up above
the loose lilac light
slips through the silver-stretched clouds
slumbering across the day’s dimming sky.
And here
down below
I walk these familiar country roads
nestled between storm-swept woodlands
and resolute mountains adorned
in darkening amber hues.
Somewhere
a fire is burning.
I stop mid-stride and begin gathering
the elemental scent of tucked-in coziness
with starved rapacious speed.
Each inhale widens and deepens
arms reaching out and scooping in
bringing the wood-spiced air
closer and closer
in and down
in and down
until the edges of my body begin to blur
separation recedes
division dissolves
and a kind of contained spaciousness
sets in.
No longer weighed down
by the cumbersome content
of experiences or pulled back
by fear’s firm grip.
All that feels less stuck
less tangled and free to float.
I remain where I am
standing but not still.
A boundless buoyant ease
rocking me from within and without.
This feels familiar...
… like this is how it felt
before I took shape
and the motion of life began.
As if I’m being reminded
of a once known but forgotten truth -
Not alone and apart from
but held and received
as a part of.
- Lauren Taub Cohen
