salt into sap

i asked my body to point out the hurt

and she's responding in waves

i ask her to turn salt into sap

to make the process easier
smoother

but we both know sap doesn't make open wounds burn out the bitter

she tells me i'll be able to listen to those songs again

that it won't show up in my parenting

that i'll be able to retrace soiled ground barefoot

speaking in my mother tongue without sting

and i know she's right

although i may not be able to hang up those photographs

i can smile with them

and sleep with my jaw no longer clenched

she holds wisdom where i thought i could not find her

she holds grief and love with equal measure

and asks that i bleed them onto my blank canvases

my yet to be written poems

and empty mic stands

she stems out in the elderberry growing outside

the kind people met by coincidence
and every baby smile

she knows the medicine i need
 all i need is to listen
and show trust by diving into her waters

. . .

my heart valves are teaching me how to be open

i'm learning to feel pain without holding onto it

to say, "thank you for showing me what i chose not to see 

but so much needed to" 

with each grain of salt i'm learning to love it all over again

more fiercely 

honestly

limitlessly

as i pour salt into wound, 

my body asks me to take off my shoes at the doorstep
to stand tall

to no longer squint at the sun

to sing out my hurt
to no longer fear surrendering to my own depth
rather to watch its hope song guide me to my healing

she said, it was only i that could reach her
only i

i now find myself reaching for salt
the true recipe of healing
that which brings out what is truly most sweet