Breathing

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