Every day it speaks to you, sometimes even in your dreams.  It speaks of long-held memories buried deep within the tissues of your muscles, of the hope ready to spring into action coiled at the base of your spine.

It speaks to you about the wings making their way out of the crevice between your vertebrae and shoulder blades.  It reveals the scars engraved into your hip sockets.  Scars so old you didn't even know they were still there--until a movement, a memory stirs them up again and you can begin to release them as you would weeds from your garden, gently loosening their roots from your soil.

It is limbs and torso that tell you when you need to move, to dance, to release yourself, free yourself from the bonds of the day, the shackles of limited logic.  And when you must be still, your body tells you to be still, still enough to hear only the beating of your heart and the new seeds you planted cracking open to lay down roots where weeds once were.

Your body is the deepest wisdom.  The surest answer found in the physical expression of your soul.