Poem: Breathing

mix

 

Breathing

You breathe,
feeling the breath fill you,
feeling your lungs expand,
the tight plate of your diaphragm lifting,
drawing in air,
your chest rising, almost to pain,
rising to a silent count of seconds.

In.
Out.
In.
Out.

The air fills you.
The air leaves,
and with it the irrationality
that creeps in all too often,
each breath a prayer,
a promise, a taking of control
of a body that believes it does not need you to live.

You breathe. You count.
You breathe again,
You feel the moment,
the wellness of it,
the strange perfection of an old man’s breath
wresting control of far more than lungs.

About this poem.

I meditate. Sometimes alone in the morning. Sometimes, like today, in public places. This morning, at the local diner.

It’s OK. They are used to me here.

Tom

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s