Efforting my day, adrenaline drums.

I turn my back on your whispering plea.

    Lungs:  Fill me. Slow down. Breathe.

    Neck:   Rock me. Slow down. Stretch.

    Bladder:  Empty me. Slow down. Pee.

Imagined priorities deafen my ability to listen, to feel.

You carry me, still. Oblige my bid.

     Now squat, now lunge, now push.

Strong, capable arms to hold and to serve.

Relentlessly beating life’s sustaining blood despite my ignorance.

You have stayed with me since my first breath drawn – through thick and thin, in sickness and in health.

Bleeding. Birthing. Nurturing. Morphing on demand.

Beautifully. Miraculously.

I hear you today.

You say

   Rest.

      Slow down.

          Breathe.

              Love.

                  Honor.