The Minutia of Motion

The spaces we enter are full of energy

Jumping, bouncing, floor to ceiling

And yet we stand firm, closed and grounded

Ignoring the electric movement of the unseen air

We turn our brains on and the heart stands by

Seeing only what is in front

Blind to the magic penetrating our skin

Begging to be felt and fostered

We let ourself open and our palms feel forced

To wriggle and wrangle, twisting wrists

Our fingers dance to the beat

A drumming, caged inside our gut

We finally seek to listen to the sound

A pounding we've ignored

A wave takes over and the body stretches

Limbs unhinged and moving in freedom

Movement is the medicine we often ignore

Thoughts that we need more triumph

But in the minutia of motion

We settle into expansion and feel the latent love