Day 27 in the NaPoWriMo scheme of things; that giving of a poem everyday, everyday for the month of April.
It’s been a breeze, sometimes a gust, a whip,
maybe wisp of spring wind caught in my hair,
or maybe it’s your breath in our passing that catches
on the edge of my face that I quickly inhale.
Inhale your exhale, gather a bit of you in my breathing,
take it a few steps, a few steps down the street and
exhale it for someone else to take in. They take in you
and me and the spring wind caught in my hair,
the whip of air around us. Breathing without any thought
to the taking of my breath, your breath, our breath,
everywhere all of us sharing what we need for life.
Lives all connected by the passing of inhales and exhales
of strangers and lovers, battle fields, and churches,
victims and perpetrators, that vicious little child in the grocery
that huddled man covered in dirt on the corner begging,
Or… the infinite breath of God or Goddess or who or whatever
you call that magnificence All around you. Breathing
In the finite world of living your last breath that will be mixed
with everyone’s breath spiraling around the globe to you
And in that last gasp, as you mind leaves you and your
body has said it last goodbye, you are not alone
