You Want Inspiration?
“She called in her soul to come in and see.” – Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God
Call in your soul to come and see
from the inside out instead the outside in.
Breath comes easier when you’re not perfect.
Call in your soul so she can show you
how much you can hold—hold, as in pain, as in love;
not as in armfuls of sticks, or jugs of milk,
or children too tired to walk any longer.
Carrying comes easier when you let yourself be held.
Regardless of your story, regardless of who
you have been or who you will become,
you want to weave a safety net
secured by four corners,
to time, before your ancestors’ conception,
to time, beyond your unborn children’s children,
to place, the deepest cavern in the ocean,
to space, the outer traces of the galaxy.
Your soul will teach you how to weave
those intricate patterns which your grandmother knew
even as she lost her vision
and her gnarled fingers could not hold needles.
Your soul is: your tender tendons reaching out,
your optic nerves observing,
your auricular nerves auditing the world
and turning meaning into hope.
Your soul is your heart beating faster
when torrents gush through canyons,
and when your feet are at the canyon’s edge.
Or your soul is your breath, from the inside out,
from the outside in, establishing your natural rhythm,
teaching you how to be not perfect,
allowing you to be held.
Poem by Sarah B. Sullivan
Love this poem? Give back by donating to Sarah Sullivan’s favorite cause, The Center for New Americans.
