My body is not a static thing.
It grows and shrinks, flourishes and decays
as the environment around it,
the system feeding it,
the seasons change it.
I shed leaves when I can’t support nourishing them.
I protect my center, padding,
when I sense immediate threats
when a drought or invasion of pests goes on too long.
My body is not a static thing.
Not a steel pole forged and crafted to never ever change.
Not a painting behind glass with strokes that never ever bleed.
My body is live.
I live, therefore I change.
I live fully, with my entire soul, therefore I change.
I admonish, defend, battle, and build, therefore I change.
I dream, therefore I change.
My body is changeful.
