One Day A Woman Was Feeling Quite Wondrous!
I am a wondrous being. My fingers type and I see my veins where my blood rushes. My fingers bend and release. My thumbs make me special. Travel up my arms, with muscle and sinew and tendon and skin and up to my shoulders, shoulders that can carry my stress by hunching up and inward, and my neck and my head and down to my beating heart, my lungs taking in the air, letting out the air, and my soft innards set about their jobs of keeping me alive and well. My legs and feet, carrying me forward forward. I am strong. I am a beautiful human machine. I am a scientific experiment, and a spiritual mystery. You can see my skin, but you cannot live in it; however, you can sense what it is like to move in my skin, since yours is similar – it is only my secret thoughts and dreams and wishes and desires you will never know. You cannot know the true heart of a man or of a woman, unless they give it to you as a gift. If you come close to me, look into my eyes, my dark brown eyes, you can sink there in my sorrow or you can swim in my happiness – you can see deep inside, you can dive into my eyes and know as much as I allow you to know. I can shutter my eyes against you. I can keep from revealing. I am a wondrous beautiful machine with the capacity for much giving and much taking away.
I am a mutated being. An evolutionary miracle. I am wondrous and strange and complex. My body is a scientific knowledge base, and a spiritual mystery. My innards are soft, protected by hard skeleton. My brain electrifies and snaps and whirrs and holds forth ideas and thoughts and tells me when I am cold or hot or sad or happy, but alas, it has not told me what is love and what is hate and why they both create such havoc. But it has given me the capacity to feel it all…wondrous!
(image from google images http://www.borderlinecollective.org/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/beginning-of-life.jpg)