I am entranced
by my breathing.
It is like the surf
that flows in as a wave
but whose return,
steady but delayed,
entails a seething seeping,
down and in,
permeating, lubricating,
bringing life.
It is like the boughs of cedar
in the wind —
how they give and give
in gracious bend
and then return,
a calm reception and unspringing
of the wind’s impulse.
There’s nothing mechanical
about this body.
Its breathing makes it one
with the one sweeping flow
called life,
that owns everything —
galaxies and microcosms,
sands, skies, seas,
forests and rivers and plains,
and you and me.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 21, 2013