the most beautiful thing: weight
To the toes. All the way to the toes, the weight settles. The weight of years gone by, lost and found, sifting through and coming forward, kissing me on the head and rubbing my nose to drop feathers all the way down my middle to find the ticklish underside of my soles. Weighted, I sink my heels more fully into the floor, my head more fully into the pillow, my heart more fully seated in my chest. Weighted, I sway above an earth anchoring me, me anchoring the earth.
Weighted in the beauty of dark eyes and bright dreams, we lay down in a field to see the stars stretch out their arms from lifetimes away. Weighted under moonbeams and saltwater, we lay down our fears and watch them crawl their own paths towards dawn. Weighted beneath a promise made before we landed, we promise only what we are willing to give. We do promise. We promise to give weight where weight is needed and to wait it out if we must.
Weighted by a Sunday morning rain to come, we wonder aloud and wander amuck. Weighted by the arched back untouched, we swiftly seek solace in melodies and lyrics brought together with us in mind. Weighted by adoring little ones and worrying big ones, we steep our amber grains in honey. Weighted in the beauty that needs no subtext, we settle into our true selves and sink deeper than we knew we could – as deeply as we always hoped but dared not imagine. Weighted and waiting, but weighted nonetheless.