Embracing the Past

The scene is picture-perfect

in my mind:

my younger self

stretched out on her bed,

stomach down so its mass

won’t oppress her,

wipe hips and massive thighs

spilling towards the edges.

Propped on her elbows,

pen poised in her right hand,

left hand dashing away tears

as she writes out her pain.

If I could travel back in time,

I would choose

this moment,

quiet and humble as it is.

How I would love

to sit next to her,

this younger me,

tell her she’s beautiful,

love and embrace her

with all my heart.

How might that have felt?

What wounds might it heal

for her to rest

in that embrace?

My yearning alone does not bend

time and space.

I will never know that balm.

I have only the present,

this moment,

the choice to reach out

to others equally burdened,

share with them

this dream of past embrace,

a dream which may,

with hope and love,

light the way

for their own path

to healing.