mastering the art of breath

Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay

ocean waves,

swollen grey,

and blue, with

tide —

crash powerful against

mountains of stone,

and there never was so much

foam

inside

of me,

as when I learned to breathe

on my own.

and it’s slightly strange, and slightly sad,

to contemplate —

breathing is an art we rarely

find the time to learn…

(savage heart rate)

constant- rush- and- push-and-pull(against our lungs)

we run and run,

dizzy with sun,

willing meaning (into our words, onto our tongues)—

into the beauty of the burn.

into the wanting of the yearn.

But try.

try it once —

walk (alone) at the side of the cliff…

when all’s ablur with mist,

and no sound, but the sound, of you-

(so much of you exists)