We do not praise our bodies enough. From head to toe, our body is an amazing creation. Because of it, we can eat breakfast, go to work, go hiking, play football, play the flute, listen to Bach or Cold Play and do many other enjoyable things. There’s more.

• Your brain produces enough electricity to light a small light bulb.
• Hearing is the fastest human sense. Your brain can recognize a sound 10 times faster than the blink of an eye, in as little as 0.05 seconds.
• The human heart beats more than three billion times in an average lifespan. That’s more than 100,000 times per day.
• Your immune system, with the help of various types of white blood cells such as lymphocytes, neutrophils and macrophages protect you from harmful viruses and bacteria.
• Your bones are strong. The 26 small bones in your feet carry your body weight with every step you take. Besides, broken bones can heal themselves.

How often do we pause to think of these little miracles happening all over our bodies? I think it’s fair to say that we do not praise our bodies enough. So, for today, I like share a few poems about the wonders of the human body. Poetry is concise, lyrical (like a song) and rich in metaphors. I hope these elements of poetry will help us appreciate our bodies a little bit more, for today and indeed, every day till the day we die.

The first poem is by May Swenson (1913-1989).  A native of Utah, Swenson is considered one of mid-century America’s foremost poets; the uniquely typographical and innovative poems earned comparisons to e.e. cummings and her careful attention to the suggestiveness of objects, persons, and events of ordinary life recall Elizabeth Bishop, with whom Swenson corresponded for decades. Here is QUESTION by May Swenson.

QUESTION

Body my home
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen

Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt

Where can I go
without my mount
all eager and quick
How will I know
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure
when Body my good
bright dog is dead

How will it be
to lie in the sky
without roof or door
and wind for an eye

With cloud for shift
How will I hide?

***

The next poem is by Louise Glück (1943-2023). Born in New York City, Glück grew up on Long Island and attended Sarah Lawrence College and Columbia University. Considered by many to be one of America’s most talented contemporary poets, Glück was known for her poetry’s technical precision, sensitivity, and insight into loneliness, family relationships, divorce, and death. The poet Robert Hass called her “one of the purest and most accomplished lyric poets now writing.” In 2020, she was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature “for her unmistakable poetic voice that with austere beauty makes individual existence universal.” Here is CROSSROADS by Louise Glück.

CROSSROADS

My body, now that we will not be traveling together much longer
I begin to feel a new tenderness toward you, very raw and unfamiliar,
like what I remember of love when I was young –

love that was so often foolish in its objectives
but never in its choices, its intensities
Too much demanded in advance, too much that could not be promised –

My soul has been so fearful, so violent;
forgive its brutality.
As though it were that soul, my hand moves over you cautiously,

not wishing to give offense
but eager, finally, to achieve expression as substance:

it is not the earth I will miss,
it is you I will miss.

***

Lastly, I like share a short poem I wrote entitled ODE TO THE BODY.

ODE TO THE BODY

Eyes that do not see
ears that do not hear
skin that does not feel
angels shuffling inside every cell,
sticking their necks out
to straighten what’s frayed,
and mend what’s broken.
We kept asking why
but the body, without a language
speaks only of faith.
There is time yet.
All shall pass.
But our hearts pounded,
and our palms grew cold, and
we sighed, saying our bones
will never heal.
And there was day
and there was night
and there was the
healing of bones.