the dewdrops wrecked, by the
muscle aches of these thoughts,
the 10 commandments of sadness that
have lingered this past year.
today i can breathe and the world is
vibrant, softer, warmer. something
fucking healed within. i am not sure what, but
as my lonely burden lifts, air clears,
a symphony of breath.
under and over and
throughout. breathing, as we were born to do.
rain comes down,
a railing through the heaviness.
this literature of breath.
a film of a train of flooding of maps of
neural pathways, lost and forging ahead,
into new territory.
pathways of air.
and if i thought this break is an ending, i would be
mistaken. but sometimes a break is enough, and
from the observation car, it seems well and on track.
the journey of oxygen, this foray into the river of tomorrow,
by breath of water, through air of hope.
an experiment i did the other night: