The Souls Song

My soul sings a song.

I can hear it in the marrow of my bones.

It’s a melancholy of remembrance.

When I pause to listen, I feel it inside of me.

The wanting of something that was.

A gentle yearning to unfurl all of my protective mechanisms.

To access her.

The innate wild woman that’s in my ancestor’s blood and mine.

Free in her expression.

Embodied in her pleasure.

Grounded in her body.

Rooted in her cycles and her connection with the land.

Fierce in her yes and no’s.

That remembrance is in my DNA.

Precolonization.

Guided by the divine and the wisdom of her inner knowing.

Her muse, all of nature.

The wind that moves through the tall grass like a whisper.

The subtle warmth of the late summer sun on naked skin.

The big, sturdy trunks of giant trees.

The flowing water, transforming in shape as it moves over rocks.

The meeting of cool morning air and the exhale from your lungs.

The moon and stars at night.

As my body remembers the wild, my soul’s song begins to transform.

No longer melancholy, and never the same.

Sometimes the song remains slow in pace, but deepens it’s reverberation in my bones.

Sometimes I feel it move me in spirals, slow and sensual.

Other times, it moves me more jaggedly, with sharp and meaningful corners.

Sometimes my soul’s song quickens in pace.

Ecstatic and wild, my hair in my eyes.

It’s a reminder of the many facets of my inner wild woman.

Some soft and others not.

All potent and all accepted in their expression.

They remind me to honour my wholeness over goodness.

And when I move to my souls song, I begin to embody my wild, just a little bit more.

The more I embody my inner wild, the more my eyes open to see.

The more I taste intricacies.

The more I hear in the silence.

The more I smell, truth and lies.

And, the more I feel deeply.

The wild is anything but numb.

And, the more I embody that remembrance, the more I can hold all that I sense.

Less need to run from it.

To project it.

Avoid it.

Or reject it.

When my soul sings it’s song, it’s always a reminder of the resilience in my body.

It’s always a reminder to come back home.

To exist gently in my skin.

What is the song in your soul telling you?