I notice the light shining on my eyes
My eyebrows are heavy
My forehead full of tension
my voice is soft

The floor brings heaviness on my sternum
emptyness in my womb

I yearn for my time to be pregnanct witih my
desires and dreams
I feel like I am in labour
birthing myself

Lower back is tight

There is no time to birth
life goes on

I want more time.
I want more time.
I. want. more. time.

I want support.

My soul yearns for a midwife for my dreams
I feel my grandmother’s touch on my head

It’s okay to cry.

I am held.
I am held.
I. am. held.

Tears are runing down my cheeks
my heart smiles
theroom is warm.

I am held.

– A body poem
With loving gratitude to my facilitator