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

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