May you share my actual dream of a thousand birds released,
ten thousand balloons out from my grip,
going into the sky
without environmental impact.
My gripping hands have eased
and opened once again
into release and flight, oh my.
Watch out your window so not to miss it.
No story about it, but if there were one,
it would be about the body
where hidden spots of thought had turned muscles
into prisons.
Breath has gone there and released what was too familiar
and practiced as to not be seen.
Breath reaches into what feels like a knots, holding,
control, and eases what namelessly cripples
the entire body machine.
Simple and senseless is grace, thank you.
Visceral can extend where intelligence has no sway.
Breath goes into atrophy and life begins again,
with this body a vessel, yes, but also a map
with roads of scars and light.
Who helps light
the outed bridges
when our own blindness will not let us see?
Who offers their own shining scars
when whole sections go out and bring us down?
Is there a difference between a friend, a tree, a spider web, the chilly morning,
or breath? Use it all, as offered, to light the way.
Even Air, she in her soft hat authority can go every where.
May you find any and every where
the breath is not reaching
with help from the love mirrored here
reflecting back to you
in and from every corner
of our rounded body shells
of mystery–
separate yet shared and free.
Life as Improv 
Thank for this – for reminding me to breathe and let go.
Happy New Year Marga – a year for 2020 vision
Alison xo
“Visceral can extend where intelligence has no sway…” And that goodness for that.