I wrote this a few years ago and came across it this morning. An interesting coincidence as I have begun writing again after a very long silence as I dealt with amongst many other things, a progressive deterioration in my breathing. Breath, life, creativity - a potent mix and one I have never before been so aware of. I started on an inhaler on Friday and already I am breathing more easily. Breath is life and breath is power. I look forward to the continuing pleasure of the former and the joy of taking back the latter.
I breathe out upon this paper,
The beating of my heart,
Out into the wondering world,
A butterfly breath.
It shakes the forests of the Amazon,
Thunders on the mountain peak,
Stirs the distant oceanic deep,
One sacred breath, one heart beat.
I breathe out upon this paper,
In Black words etching
The whiteness of the universe,
Butterfly breath, breathing worlds.
Once upon a time I was a fat little caterpillar whose contented munching was disturbed by visions of bright wings flying free in a world beyond the cabbage patch. When my caterpillar form could no longer contain that dream I entered the Chrysalis where thought became form. This is my journey.Walk with me.This is simply who I am.
1 comment:
I think problems with breathing hits us at our very core.I havent had too much trouble with it myself, but I once saw teen having an asthama attack when he was very little and it was terrifying.
I hope it sorts itself out very soon X
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