Practicing the Art of Opening

Open like a field
Grass between my toes
Brushing against my shins
Every insect alive with sound
Wings buzzing
Legs rubbing together
I sing with crickets
Their rhythm like the beat of my heart.

Eyelids jump like grasshoppers
Arms stretched like a praying mantis
Skin tight like a chrysalis
I sway with the wind
Bending like branches
Lips wet like morning dew on petals.

My thoughts carried on the thorax of ants
Twice my weight
Heavy and with purpose.

I open like a meadow from the forest
Streams of sunlight bursting through shadows
Translucent skin
Hot sweat
Sweet like nectar

Words fall like pollen
Dusting my tongue
Dispersing like cottonwood tufts
Seeds traveling high above my head
Free to find new homes
New roots
To share fresh soil with my heels.

A robin’s nest in my belly
Eggs as blue as a summer sky
Incubating
Hatching in my left ventricle
Wings erupting
Breaking my heart open
Spilling out of my chest
Resting on blades of bright green
Cutting me open
Like a wild raspberry bush
Aggregate fruits

Symbiotic mutualism
Every organism connects to another
Like veins
Like spiderwebs

Open like
Laws of thermodynamics
Energy cannot be created
Or destroyed

I am circadian rhythms
Evolving entropy
Carving out my niche

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