I’m someone who likes to get out for a walk every day. I had a great streak going, walking 6-7 days a week for over 2 months. Then last week on a work trip, the sidewalk did me dirty and took out my ankle. No more walks. It’s been hard to stay still – not because I want to be go-go-go, but because movement and time outside helped ease the frantic nature of my mind and put me back in my body. I’ve been doing some stretching, but one wrong move and tendons in my ankle be screaming at me. So today’s prompt from @beausia on IG got me thinking about what else movement can look like. ‘STRETCHING’ can be done physically, emotionally, spiritually. It can hurt or feel amazing. Ultimately, it’s how we grow. Where in your life are you ‘stretching’ at the moment? I hope it feels just right.
xo, adrienne
These three poems are in the form of an ooreio in which the title word should be repeated between each stanza.
(1) stretching
in an attempt to clear out the stagnation
of my imagination (and my back)
in ways that free the fascia from holding
decades of unresolved pain
in poses they told me would bring enlightenment
when all i needed to do was lay the hell down
in tiny little movements, gently
so as not to tear the fragile hope in my limbs
in community, hands out – pressing, holding, guiding
as we reach for something more
(2) stretching
up like a curl of steam from my tea
dancing as it fades away
up in bloom, facing the sun
with an open heart
up, so tall, like i tell my kids
so they remember how big they can be
up towards the elusive ‘one day’ when
i stop apologizing for the space i take up
up like a dream that knows
the dawn is coming
(3) stretching
down towards my toes, towards the Earth
so i can feel grounded
out towards my fingertips flung wide
and pointed in the direction of change
into new roles and new ways
of being more myself
between fear and faith,
anchored by the hold of your hand
across now and then, here and there
connected to all that is and ever was
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