More than I am

I'm growing larger than I am

I'm growing past my strength

This has happened before

It was once strictly physical. The ground drifted further

below my sight. I re-balanced. I became

known as woman, became in relation to

others, to my experiences. This growth is

less visible but I feel it. It feels

tangible. I'm growing more capable of

caring for myself. I'm growing more connected

to the earth below me. 

That steady earth that held me

crawling, toddling, walking, and then gazing past

it. I'm working towards it once more, knowing that

it's relationship is possibly the

most sacred. Feeling myself sculpted, nourished, of and

working back towards. My body will grow stronger. I can

feel that. I can feel that one day I'll balance on my

hands, that my spine will open, that I won't be scared

of exposing myself. 

I can feel that. And then I'll begin to

curl back within. I'll relinquish some of that strength. I'll

give it back, little by little. Eventually, I'll let go

entirely. I'll give back my breath. I'll give back all that's

been given me. I'll go back into the earth. I'll begin that

radical practice of once more growing larger than

I am. Of dissolving into soil, seed, root. Of looking

up into depths of earth. Merging into something more

than I am.