An old poem, made new

A slight re-write of an older poem, because writing something for real just ain't happening tonight.  Still, I don't know that I've ever shared this one and I just found it again...and it kinda fits where I'm at today anyway.  It's like it was meant to happen.

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There are moments.

The moment between sleeping and waking when I,

tiptoeing cautiously back from a dreamless night

feel Sun’s beams stretching across my bed.

Like the hope I’ve been waiting for,

she warms my body before I can attempt to

shame it into non-existence.

It’s as if the Goddess herself crawls into my veins and

holds me from the inside.

She breathes life into my limbs,

pulls my body back from the exile of denial

and instills my heart with innocence

my sleep-filled being

doesn’t remember losing.

In that moment between sleeping and waking,

I let her love me

in the ways I dare not love myself.

I feel her open the secured places,

let her slip inside and

infuse them with denied truth, rendering them sacred.

I suspend my thoughts in her arms,

let her bless my sunshine filled body, and

spend the rest of the day aching

to live wholly into this half-realized dream

of me, as I am.