I bend and stretch awkward and flexible into the mold of expectation

The form becoming so familiar, and yet I feel broken

I become that thing that I thought I was meant to be

That with so little movement

My toes and fingers feel cramped

I never thought I could bend and stretch up and out of the container of patterns

Sitting there stuck and hardened

Working so hard to fit into a spot I was never fully welcomed into

Until the spark of fire tickled my pain and I chose to scratched it

A demonstration of flow

Revealing a new possibility

Discerning a realization

Perceptions of the mold never existing

A wave of comprehension, almost drowning in disbelief

Was my life a lie?

or,

A vehicle to awaken to the truth?

The honesty of this ever unfolding itself

As my fingers soften and explore the copious gardens

And my confined toes expand into the earths welcoming coolness

My eyes adjusting to the abundant sunlight

I drink in the appreciation of strength

I feel more beautiful as a fragrant Lily of the Valley.