My Body Knows.

My body knows

But I must listen

The tears are on the verge

My body senses Spirit deeper

It tingles

It craves

And so I sit. 

I sit to listen

I sit to feel

I sit to understand

To experience Joy.

Joy that must be felt

Or it becomes sorrow.

Why is that? 

Joy not felt becomes moments in time that were not taken

That builds sorrow.

But the current moment is always available.

“Pick me” it says

And by some miracle, I do. 

This is the miracle. 

This moment.

This energy.

This stillness,

This feeling being felt. 

This is the miracle.

And my body knows.