Body Of Thought Poem by Indigo Hawkins

Look at how I squander you on the periphery of ideal—
advocating philosophies I’ve forgotten how to feel.

Once a sage said to me, “We sing about what we need most—
used to be rain for corn, but now it’s love. All over this country
people are crying out for love, for love to fall from the sky
so something, anything will start growing again.” Growing,

apparently what I needed most was a body
of questions—to ask questions of the body:

What do you remember? What do your memories mean?
Does meaning matter? Does meaning match membership?
Does matter mitigate amens? What is the heart of matter?

Have you noticed: when love extends to the body, the body extends to love?
Should I question the living or the dead? Should I follow my belly or my head?

Belly lacerated by the Bible belt—Take off your belt.
Take off your pants or your skirt, your dress or your shirt.
I want to gauge how your body behaves
when I ask it to sing.

Does it bend or swell—does it sway
or swing—or is it not moving at all?

If your body doesn’t know what to do, that’s alright too.
But a mind needs a body to learn how to think, and I think
I’m most on the brink of body when I sing a song that matters.