The Massage: NaPoWriMo 2021, Apr. 18


The Massage

On the table in the peaceful room,
I  wait  to see what this new creator will make of me.
I  experience a virtual reality–
each stage of her touch
a different story.
Body and soul, I am
the medium for her message: the massage.

Standing over the table in the stove-warmed room,
she is the cook.  I am the bread dough she is kneading. 
My leg is a green onion
having its outer skins pulled gently off.

In  the very warm, peaceful, quiet  room,
her fingers knead and fold,
rocking  my separate parts into
one whole ball of clay.
There is artistry in her touch as she folds my left arm
out  like a wing, then in like a handle,
and I am well on my way toward being a teapot
as she forms  my right  arm into the spout.

In the quiet room gone back in time,
I am Dad in his easy chair after a long day mowing hay,
saying, “Rub Pa’s head.” 
She is me, scratching  fingers through his hair
kindly, lovingly, with just the right amount of vigor.

On the table in the warm room,
I am hot taffy being pulled by the well-buttered hands
of four little snowbound girls
In Clara Brost’s kitchen.

From this room now expanding,
I am stretched by her fingers through both space and time.
She is sea brine. I am protoplasm,
buffeted back and forth,
and when at the end she cups my ear,
I can hear the ocean 
As from a shell.

The NaPoWriMo 2021 prompt for April 18 was  to write a poem based on the title of one of the chapters from Susan G. Wooldridge’s Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words.The one I chose was “Poems and the Body.”

This entry was posted in Poem and tagged , , on by .

About lifelessons

My blog, which started out to be about overcoming grief, quickly grew into a blog about celebrating life. I post daily: poems, photographs, essays or stories. I've lived in countries all around the globe but have finally come to rest in Mexico, where I've lived since 2001. My books may be found on Amazon in Kindle and print format, my art in local Ajijic galleries. Hope to see you at my blog.

6 thoughts on “The Massage: NaPoWriMo 2021, Apr. 18

  1. kim881

    A soothing poem for a Sunday morning, Judy! I used to love going for a massage but haven’t done for a very long time. The ‘peaceful room’ was like being in another time and space, which fits neatly with the idea of the masseuse being a ‘new creator’. My favourite lines are:
    ‘Standing over the table in the stove-warmed room,
    she is the cook. I am the bread dough she is kneading’
    and
    ‘her fingers knead and fold,
    rocking my separate parts into
    one whole ball of clay.’
    I love the way it takes you back to ‘Dad in his easy chair after a long day mowing hay’. I did something similar in my poem.

    Like

    Reply
    1. lifelessons Post author

      Thanks, Kim. This woman was an amazing masseuse and was writing a book about her different techniques. She gave me a free massage and in return, I took notes and sent her my impressions that she used as section headings. This poem was written making use of those notes that I took.

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply

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