This Body

This body

has crossed oceans of raging waters

has been lost in storms at sea.

Its possibilities are endless;

its power is still surprising me.

.

Is there any blessing so automatic, so unconditional,

as the next breath?

My body continues to fight for me, even when my mind is courting death.

it is a rebel to its bones; it goes on even when I want to give up.

it is the half-broke chariot in which I pull ahead, cross the finish line of dreams, and hold aloft the cup.

.

This ink that marks my flesh is a map of places I've been,

whether on the globe or the tapestry of my mind,

showcasing a lot of what I love and some

of what I’ve had to leave behind.

.

Some will look at my palette and complain in hate,

but it takes personal touches to make a house a home-

why not settle in and decorate?

This flesh is the place I'll one day end,

and the place, each time I wake, I start;

.

if this body is a temple, then its walls deserve some art.