Healing Touch: Awakening the Somatic Memories Within

The quiet room receives the weary soul,

A space prepared where brokenness feels whole.

The hands approach, not swift or demanding now,

But with a knowing that the spirit will allow.

A gentle pressure on the knotted spine,

Where years of holding make the muscles twine.

The breath begins to deepen, slow and long,

A silent tuning where the self belongs.

The skin awakens to a sudden heat,

A current rising, bittersweet.

It is not pain, though old resistance stirs,

A ghost of feeling that the body blurs.

The memory sleeps beneath the surface tight,

Held captive in the darkness, out of light.

A touch that asks no question, makes no plea,

Just holds the space for what needs to be free.

The shoulder remembers how it used to bear

A weight imposed by shadow and by care.

A flicker felt along the buried nerve,

A fragile truth the living tissues serve.

The jaw unclenches from its rigid lock,

A silent turning of an inner clock.

The fingers twitch, a current swift and slight,

Releasing tension held with all their might.

The body speaks a language long unheard,

A whispered sentence, every tender word.

The heart, once armored against every blow,

Allows a tremor, soft and very low.

The floodgates tremble at the slightest yield,

As ancient hurts begin to be revealed.

Not in the mind, where logic tries to bind,

But deep within the structure of the kind.

The touch remains, a steady anchor near,

Dispelling shadows born of lingering fear.

A safety woven in the presence warm,

A sheltered harbor from the passing storm.

The phantom ache of moments long since past,

Begins to soften, destined not to last.

For in this holding, honest and sincere,

The long forgotten self begins to steer.

It floats a vision to the conscious eye,

Of what was lost beneath the passing sky.

A silent knowing settles in the bone,

The self reclaiming what was always known.

The earth beneath the feet feels firm and true,

As broken pieces gather something new.

The healing touch, a bridge across the years,

Washing the landscape clear with unseen tears.

The body sighs, a letting go profound,

Upon this consecrated, sacred ground