Our bodies tell a story

… the light grows and so does the wonder
of having a form,
a body, this very body,
we are made to be particular –
a somebody…

Gunilla Norris

The littlest in the family clings upright in my arms – smiling wide-eyed as he watches oupa climbing the steps. And I watch too – through his eyes…eyes following every step, every climb – up – waiting for feet, hands, and eyes heaving towards him… a little frown creases his look, creases into a smile when oupa greets him, “Hallo pokkel!”


Outstretched hands grip the rails
– a balancing act
Out weighing the struggle
– a body bent forth
one foot placed askew
the other follow

no muscles for this job
only pure will power

 I wonder – what does he see? What does the frown say? What do I see? Why do I look away?

Now I understand:

Our bodies tell a story. They tell our stories – how we treasure or do not treasure the gift of them.

And I know, the little one sees the gift.


5 thoughts on “Our bodies tell a story

  1. Maybe if we look for the “battered”in our lives – the word “treasures” will wear well…thank you for your comment.

your thought is a gift

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