“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.” ~ Albert Camus
My body has spent years in hibernation,
underground, curled into a safe hollow of slumber.
I have slept the torpid nod of bears, and had their winter dreams.
Of roots sprouting, flowers reaching,
turning pale heads to the sun to unfold.
Do bears hear sounds in their winter repose?
My body has heard a cacophony of birds, torrents of rain, thunderous hooves overhead.
Fearful to emerge, anxious, it curled tighter.
My body has ached while dreaming with the remembrance of other lives.
Of leaping off docks into cool lake water.
Of toes and fingers rejoicing in sand, dirt and grass—a glory of sensation.
Of loving another’s skin, and being touched.
Still afraid, I slept on.
The possibility of endless night was there—
I chose, finally, to uncurl
To end the dormancy, the trance of avoidance.
To stretch towards the sun, and bloom.
Run, Write, Restore 