Earth Body Medicine


You Fall

Way down to the ground

You are scattered into pieces

Some large, cutting bits

Some small dust like particles

You stay there and you realize all the messy brokenness

Your heart pulses

You do not move

Yet, suddenly

Your diligent pair of hands goes on about

It starts to gather things up


Sweeping you and the floor where you lay scattered and broken

Your hands go on

As life hands

Ever when you are unable to

Like Baba Yaga’s hands

They will have two functions:

They will help your young innocent Vasalisa girl

As she sleeps

While she’s lost, motherless, alone

They will work the world out for her

Digging poppy seeds from dirt

Separating them into two clear piles

When she wakes up

It will be done

It will feel like a miracle

Life strength acts through us

It works its way through

 Second function of the pair of hands is to turn you

Into a wise wild Baba crone

To the very last bit

Of your very last stone bone

They will go about and get things done


But they will not overwork themselves

Because they simply know

Everyone has a pair of hands of their own

Working as perfectly as hers do

Back to the broken pieces

Of course

Some pieces will be lost in the sweeping

And fly off

To sky and star and distant landscapes

Every egg shell must break for a bird to grow

As your hands get you together into a living patchwork

Sewing the pieces, weaving the leaps of void into broidery

You are brocade woman

You are unique fabric of scar and tender waters

You are overflowing

Young and old and unknowable

Yet reliable, faithful, devotional

Honour the pair of hands

They do so much everyday

For you and all your relations

Make sure

That at the end of the day

Your hands come together with Heart

And pray

Not a prayer someone wrote

But the very prayer spirit whispered at your broken ear

As your hands were sweeping the dust off you

And making it all clear

The prayer that will not forget you

As long as you do not forget

That prayer has the power to mend brokenness

And restore Love

No matter how long, how slow it might be

It is being

Like your hands,

are continuously doing

so you are continuously getting done

Love is continuously repairing

Oneness is made of many

Many, many, many

All of those each of us is

Whether we know it or not

Care for the hands:

Let them thrive





Make sure you keep them away from

Spending too much time scrolling up and down trough screens

Of other’s people life’s and deeds

Recognize what your hands are

and stop trying to turn them into something they should be

Don’t dumb and numb yourself through your fingers

Let them dance and cook and paint

Dive them into unknown holes

How else would you get to know what’s in?

Oracles are waiting to be created

Into the future you are crafting now

Take these hands to Earth

Plant, and Love and sow

They are dirt, fertile soil

Seeds and roots and worms and birds

Let them get dirt(y)

With life

Keep them away from sanitisers

And fake nails

That prevent them from looking and feeling like they do

That prevent you from touching into fullness

Nails are claws

Don’t let plastic beauty kill your ability

To be an eagle, a falcon, a wild mama boar

Make sure you touch


New-born babies

Old wrinkles in crone’s faces

Change diapers

Life is not disgusting

It is full and rich

In substance, natural expression

Transformation, elimination

Touch these places in you and others

Make sure you do so



Make sure your hands can finish what they start

And can let go of that which cannot be finished

And can stop right in the middle when a pause is needed

And re-start later

And ask for or offer an extra pair of hands

For care, co-creation, cooperation

Bare hands

Bear hands

Baba Yaga is coming through these hands

To the heart of You

And so

Whatever was done

Or undone

Or not done

At the end of the day

you simply acknowledge

Your hands have worked together with Heart

Always in all ways

And you are the living prayer

That you gift to yourself, others and Life

Iris Lican