Thursday, March 30, 2017

Exhale: a poem


On each exhale,
I grow,
a single note,
caught up in the murmur
f this round body,
this green room,
this hunting camp house,
this lake-side city,
this mitten-shaped state,
this map-drawn country
this swirling, whirling world,
this whirling universe
this pilgrim galaxy
this empty-ful cosmos
this Mystery.

And then? Breathe in. 

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