Cranial Sacral Work

I cannot  know how you feel without listening,

to the space between your sighs…

as you breath in,

chest rising,

inhaling,

receiving your mother’s cries

like a flower sucking on rain after a drought.

I hear you in my own heart, tossing,

around.

Exhale slowly, please,

then shout like a bull horn blasting…

(I hear not a sound.)

I freeze,

scribble onto my pad,

take chart notes, furiously,

giving you all I have left

to give through my listening.

Return,

come back.

come out, 
learn.

ldn