To you my body-sattvic,
the truth of you earths me,
grounds me and carries all that flows through.
In you are one hundred thousand sanghams of sanguine spirit,
the fire of my eyes, my gut, the wilderness of my will, my courage.
The imperishable spark of my heart is you.
To you, my body-sattvic, I have harmed you,
stuffed you and starved you
shelved pain on sunny shoulders and porcelain hips
I have scarred with you and warred with you
hurled cruel words at you
hid you and bid you to bed with unworthy gits,
I’ve dragged you through shit.
To you, my body sattvic,
I’ve flooded you with poison,
burnt you with booze
I’ve starved you of cleansing
and blackened you with tattoos
I’ve pricked you and pierced you stamped down all your aches
I’ve deprived you of rest
I’ve considered you my mistake
To you, my body-sattvic
you I’ve plucked, fucked and preened
I’ve cut you on mirrors
and cropped you on screens
You’ve held me up all this time yet I starved you of caress
you carry me with such patience
despite my duress
What is written on you is a story woven with so many threads
Body-sattvic you speak volumes
it will take me my lifetime for you to be read.
But now for you my body-sattvic
here dawns a new day
You are worthy, wonderful, loved and perfect in all that you do
So go out and play
And you my body-sattvic
have gifted me
butterflies in my stomach
tingles up both my arms
the brush of eyelashes on cheekbones
I couldn’t bear to do you harm
grass stroking ankles and mudsucking shins
Loud yawns in the morning
The slow stretch of laced limbs
Please forgive me my sadness, impatience, fear, ignorance and rage
Allow me to release you to soar as you are
free from the shackling shame of that cage
So let me be your bodhisattva and nourish you with compassion, acceptance and pride
from now on I promise to remember that together we share this
beautiful,
powerful,
story,
and that there is no you, only I.
Sionnachaí 