Frail skin holds the organs
 in pink bags of flesh. 
 Incredible really, 
 this vessel enmeshed.

 It comes with no manual, 
 it lives and it breathes, 
 it hastens to dying
 and actions my deeds. 

 Expanding through feeling 
 with soul wings it flies,  
 to learning and vision
 my vehicle gives rise.

 This matter in motion, 
 a here and a there, 
 and loving brings to it
 the Truth all stripped bare.

Look at these fingers, 
 they move as I ask!
 And when I flow through them
 they dance with each task. 

 A one-off uniqueness,  
 a fine joyful mess, 
 a tangle of loveliness,
 chaos and rest. 

 For those who come closer
 I offer my best, 
 embracing them wholly
 I find myself blessed. 


 For M.W.