To celebrate
the rise and fall of a breath;
one experience
of in-ness and outness;
rising and falling:
there is no hurry;
just imagining
the flowing fascinating
floating air
drawn in and out
rising and sinking
more and less
amplified and damped
from deepness to surface.
What it was is now gone;
caught and lost;
this blessed air that
came and took me
siezed and shaped me
coaxed and called me
out of myself
gave me this breath of poetry
that puts everything else
I lie here
to celebrate in language
the rise and fall of a breath.

Copyright remains with me the author, Philomena Ewing 2009.

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