I started working on this poem the other day. It began as prose … sentences and paragraphs explaining what I feel when I give treatments… how I felt like I discovered magic when I began studying osteopathy because of what I discovered the hands could feel … and then I didn’t like what I was writing because I found myself justifying and trying too hard to make my point about magic and healing… I decided to write a few of the extraordinary things that have happened to me into a poem where it wouldn’t matter if it’s read as real - or not real - just a poem - words with wings beating.
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