(Medicine, from Latin mederi: to heal, remedy, comfort) A dear friend thanked me today for the depth of a poem I shared with him. When you have a daily writing practice, like we both do, texts/poems inevitably vary in depth and beauty from day to day, so his kind feedback would’ve normally been very […]
(In a recent conversation with a person wondering what a Dearmoring session would be like, I felt the need to speak to the following aspect of the work. Thank you, Nancy, for encouraging me to write these thoughts down 🙂 ) In bodywork settings, for some reason, many of us seem to have been
The foot Leaving the ground Is sacred work It needs To be honored Turning The eye Towards the path Is sacred work Worthy of ritual The hand Reaching for provisions Is sacred work Don’t do it Without praise The knob Turning To open the way Is sacred
Peace Is such A cliché Everyone Wants peace In some form Or another Peace Is to get people Off your back Or keep them humming In close proximity While you sleep Peace Is a hut Up on a mountain An apartment Right by the supermarket A house Next to Ancestral homes
Newness Is calling The Unknown’s Enticing Outstretched hands And yet Have I got the eyes To see What lies ahead Or am I quickly Refashioning the past Into a walkable path? Eyes open This time All eyes open Please And thank you Hanaa Soliman