Belonging

I never hate my body beneath the sky.

The texture of my skin doesn’t trouble me.

I don’t ask if my hair is shining or dull.

None of it matters here.

In nature, the only reflection offered

is the mirror of the soul.

The water teaches how to bend and flow.

The air reminds me how to dance and move.

The earth shows me my quiet strength,

my loveliness, my capability.

No, I never worry about appearances—

or the masks I once thought I had to wear.

Here I bare my soul freely,

and the flesh that houses it feels obsolete

against the vast openness,

the love that hums through everything.

Out here,

there is no room for worry.

Only belonging.