Bottle Necks

Wine from the belly of the bottle pours with grace out the spout.

Why can’t emotion get past the bottleneck of the throat?

Glass is not as yielding as flesh, but neither can it contract.

The bottle is proud of its contents. Check out the fancy label.

When opened, it pours.

Why this cork of shame stuck in human bottle’s neck?

Musculature so practiced at constricting against years of tears deserves an Oscar. 

Where’s the pride? Why the shame in having cried?

Out loud

So young when we tried to reach out.

No reach back, no response made us tongue tied.

Biography becomes physiology event by event, chapter by chapter and verse.

Where’s the spout? Where’s the out for survival energies?

Full up with frozen Fight, Flight 

Pent up, fed up, deep down pressed down... waiting...

'til safety on the horizon beckons

What would it be like to be met? 

What if healing happens - for real?

Could we stand to kneel 

In gratitude for our birth on the earth?

Such bound energy it feels volcanic.

Search around for a body mechanic.

Watch for re-organization they say.

The ordinary miracle of healing turns night into day.

Slowly by slowly  learn the way. 

Shiver-shake-wave, undu-late and undo early 

Earthquakes of the soul.

Find the groove and move, move, move.

In goes the good air out goes the bad... out through torso and out out out 

Five chimneys, no waiting.

Out two arms, out two legs and out that chimney-pot head & neck of the body bottle.

My body bottle

Softening