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Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Breath 1 of 3 3/6/12

There is a breath

that must know I am dreaming,

a breath of assistance,

without distraction,

a breath of journey

as if warmly holding my hand,

a passage of breath,

as sweet as

lucidly breathing my dreams.

There is a breath

that stands alone to me.

It offers

compassionate consideration,

unencumbered

by apparent circumstance.

It is autonomously inside me

when I am pleading my case

of aloneness.

It is unanimously of me

when I am desperately

without claim.

It is a sentinel

when I have come

to the end of my tears.

It is a warm breath bedding

when

at the foot of a mountain of spirit,

my worn out mind admits,

to self-love presence.

Breath is all people I have met,

molecules of oxygen exchanged,

all utterances shared

over breath transactions.

Breath is the drawbridge,

the bookmark,

the kiss attendant,

the wet brush after passion's display.

Breaths are the talons

of free spirits.

Breath is the one sense

without delusion,

the one continuous season

without sacrifice or serenade.

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