Beautiful Beyond Belief.
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You are beautiful beyond belief.
Your fragile free-for-all,
your terrifyingly quick trip
through the planetary play
we call life.
In your horror and your haste,
in your patience and your chaste,
the unfurling fingerprint spirals
tell tales of your growth and challenges,
like minion maps
Serving your journey into being.
And, despite the logging of your laugh,
and the burning of your inner broom-riding,
despite the chariots of empires
Saddling your sisters,
and killing your children,
despite the holographic hell
of villages being burned
to the ground.
You,
you rise from the ashes
and wade through your wounds
polishing your pomegranate,
pigmented heart
for the next life journey.
You are beautiful.
And you were breathed
through all of this,
Just so you could say
to that far-reaching phantom,
“You will not win.”
Your tribal tattoos
and stretched earlobes
taunt the menacing grid
of modernization.
Your herbal potions
And belly-dancing
tickle the tummy
of the mechanical
Godzilla soul-slayer.
While soaking in hot springs
you flirt with
other dimensions
and sing songs to wild birds
that fly overhead.
You are not dead.
Your beating heart reminds you,
your swirling orchestra
imagination beckons to you.
Step into the well,
the well of remembrance.
Lilies of the valley
faint on the edge
of the waterline
as you soak.
Bowing their white,
fragrant bells into the water
as an offering
to what you haven’t forgotten,
and what you know
you must not forget.
Oh, you Bohemian bather, you.
You are beautiful.
Go ahead and clap your hands
with the clouds,
and celebrate your charitable
donation of skin
from the source.
Admire the Cybele in your shoes.
light fires to yesterday’s rubble
that would form roadblocks to
your inner wisdom.
Let it burn high enough
to lick Yahweh’s whiskers,
so he knows that fear
doesn’t fuel our footsteps.
Complete with no commandments.
Raise high your glass of rightness —
That knowing where
the wild intersection
of inner searching,
land-listening
and social morale
collide to a form
A place where you
can stand firm
and tall.
Eating day lily petals
as orange as
the setting sun,
the fireflies begin
their dance near
the forest’s edge.
“This is the beginning
that never ends,”
you think.
And with lotus eyes
turned inward,
you remind yourself,
again,
that anything
is possible…
*****
Lindsay Wilson is an herbalist, wellness guide, traditional foods maven, and Yoga teacher. Apparently, she also writes. She has lived in Eastern Europe, San Francisco, and Appalachia. She’s been back in her home state of Mississippi for the past three years. Check out her personal website here and her apothecary’s page here.
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