Kundalini Yoga + Sacred Living:

Birthday Prayers

Poem of my body, I’d like to know you. I want you to write in cursive across the floor all the ways you’ve been wronged. Make it a dance. I want to scoop you up, cradle you, let you moan your grief, your pain, your ecstasy.

Poem of my body, I want to float you into a prayer. I want to give you warm rain and heavy blankets. I want to stand beneath you, beside you, within you.

Poem of my body, I don’t want to have the words. I want to give them to you. I want to be heaving and speechless. I want to gasp and stretch. Wide eyed. I want to surrender my need to know. I want to let you run like a wolf through your protected woods.

Love of my life, I’d like to know you. I want the house of my heart turned upside down. I’d like to call back all the cast aside parts of me back. I want these orphans drawn in, warmed up, given soup. I want to feel all the parts of me coming home, while holding someone else’s hand.

Love of my life, I want to feel you as atmosphere. I want to be stars. Our arms stretch across the sky, you know? Into equaled majesty. We dip fingers into infinite pools of tenderness. Our breathing is the shooting of stars, rage exploding, forming new constellations to call us back home. We do not fear death, we do not fear life.

Great works of my heart, I want to loosen you from my side like an injured wing. A appendage held close so long, it heals, and we forget it was there to begin with. Great creations, I want to open you against the sky and see what you can do. I want to use these wings.

Great works of my heart, I want to forget what I have done so far. I want to forget the failure, the success. I want to be the fool. I want to dance backwards and fall into grace. Great works of my heart, I want to cut a canyon for you. I want to let your rivers cut into my hardened, rocky places. I want to destroy my cities for you. I want to let your grace wash over my body, my land, my life.

Great works of my heart, I want you to teach me new songs in languages that are not words, but the shaping of ecosystems. I want to learn a language that is not a language, but a dance that only clouds can hear. Great works of my heart, I want to join you. Deeper.

And to the One Who Lives Within, I want to keep your secrets. And tell them. I want to push aside the ivy and breath in the wet air. I want to leave no trace to your doorstep. I want to draw maps until I die. I want to worship at your feet, at the ocean shore, at the grocery store, at the foot of the bed.

The One, I want to know you more. I want to admit that playing hide and seek with you is my life’s greatest joy. And I don’t want it to stop. I want you to keep hiding everywhere, so we can continue to both act surprised when I find you. Everywhere.

4 Comments

  1. Patricia Nardone says:

    Nicole, Darling, your writing touches me as I look out over the drippy beauty of the northwest skies, soppy colors and delicious scent of dying leaves. I love what you’ve done with the “o”s your name; creating the four directions within yourself; claiming this for all of us.
    Patricia

    • Nicole Nardone says:

      oh what a beautiful scene to imagine!

      and spot on for the four directions… exactly what i was feeling with that 😉

  2. Alison says:

    Nicole this is beautiful. Did you write this?

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