Insides Wiggle Out

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe,
for wiggles—
unrefined thrusts of a baby’s arms and legs,
tapping of my husband’s foot at the dinner table,
juvenile explosion of motion in the back seat
on the drive home from school.

Blessed are You for gifting us movement,
a continuous giving—
our muscles and limbs expressing
anxiety, desire, welcome, fear,
the literal shaking of sorrow.

Blessed are You
for leaves that twist back and forth on repeat
like my leg when I’m sitting in church;
for dogs that wiggle joy from end to end
like I do when hubby—still cold from outside—
picks me up in a tight squeeze;
for pond ripples that ceaselessly distort
the surface of the water,
like my anxiety, insisting I cannot be still.

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe,
for giving me a body to invite my insides out,
to hug and kiss, tap and wiggle,
jump and shiver,
curl into fetal position, or sprawl in sunshine—
movement that both affirms and releases
my inner world.