Sodalite,
Smooth and fitted to my palm,
I hold this tight in my hand,
Anchoring my concerns in this small stone,
To lighten my own vessel,
To smooth over jagged edges of anxiety,
That lights like struck flint, within my core,
Breathing,
Soft, cool air streams through passages,
Into my being,
A worried heart slows in pace,
Patient breaths repeat,
Palm still cradling stone,
My mouth opens
And words sheltered in the cavern of throat
Carefully, thoughtfully, tenderly escape,
My belly pushes forth these sounds in composite form,
As fingers swirl around a hard stone base-
Not visible to my own eye,
But dark blue, brown, and black with delicate lines of white, in memory
From this space, I pull my strength,
Am reminded of my connection to the Earth,
To the interconnected web of existence,
I am made steady,
To pull from myself what I long to communicate;
Grounded,
I am strong.
Grounding
She of Letters 