The Soft Rolling Landscape of Her Body

Tips of fingers caressing textures I had never met in grade school.
Now I learn with experience rather than being inundated with textbooks that “would soon be outdated”
I learn with intuition and re-membering.
Over time I became less afraid of the pokes of the thistle and the stings of the nettle
For now, I knew these sensations deep in my body
Something ancestral has awoken; I walk alongside my lineage with awareness of their presence.
Wondering, as I pluck the dandelion leaf for dinner, if my great, great, great, great grandmother did this too…
How she filled her belly…the bellies of her friends, lovers and children
How did she touch and talk about her belly?
With kind loving eyes toward the soft rolling landscape of her body, made of memories, hard work, and laughter?
I’d like to think so.