The Breath You Give


The breath you give

is the breath you receive

is the breath that whispered

this planet into atoms,

blew spirals of night

into galaxies like glass

and spindled out the flesh

of your ancestors.

We were connected

by a dark sigh

before we had names.

Our lungs are the bellows

of the Maker.

The path is whatever feels

like an egg breaking inside you.

Now the enchantress walks
barefoot through your fallow chest.
As soon as the do-er dissolves,
She dances you.

Don't waste a single exhalation

complaining about this world.

Choose beauty.

The gift will not appear

until you are grateful.

Under the snow, seeds listen.

Are you singing to them?

Why not?

The softer your voice of praise

the more they reach up,

unfurl their snowy cups.

Why don’t you fill them with

a downpour of silence.

This is the art of thirst.

And here is the secret:

Creation happens

through a swirl of stillness.

You could be the cause

of Spring.

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