Face the west at dusk
anoint your wrists
with sandalwood and take
eleven deep breaths.

Leave your dog at home.

Bare feet earthed
reach fingertips to the sky

               (keep your soles on The Mother
                while reaching your soul towards The Mother)

Take eleven more breaths.

Shoot fire from your lungs        scream
until the flames light the sky all red
and glowing.

Drop to your knees

Fill your palms with fresh earth—sand will work
but mud is best.

Earth in hand                press
             palm into palm

Take eleven more breaths
and with each breath

                                   think of the children
                                   and the stars
                                   and the ocean waves sun-kissed crashing against the coastline
                                   be thankful for your mother (even if she was wicked! she birthed you)
                                   apologize for ever thinking yourself a villain (you were trying)
                                   think of the lips from the first kiss that was wanted (forget the rest)
                                   think of your lungs
                                   think of your breathing
                                   think of the miracle in each breath
                                   remind yourself to keep breathing, always
                                   accept your gifts

Silently sit enveloped in the cricketed air
remember you are not just soul but
also animal
               who yearns
and prowls and preys

Remember that it’s important to stay hungry
             to have that bit of wild
             that howls at the moon and craves
                                       more.

 

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Azia Archer is a mother, writer, maker and, lover living in Minnesota. She is the author of ATOMS & EVERS (dancing girl press, 2017). You can find her online at www.aziaarcher.wordpress.com or via Twitter @aziaarcher