Breath. . .
just let it be,
ensure your now
your being’s Earth reality–

even if
a sudden falling fear
might chance to seize you,
do its dance,
and speak convincingly
into your ear,
“The end is near”–

fogged, and black
in instantaneity,

you cannot take
the one next step
to where
you know you want to be. . .

Surrender, then,
and let it go,
breath knows its outs
and knows its ins,

no matter what
your posture or position–
sitting quite still
or sleeping in,

for it’s the
finest bread
you’ll ever have,
and the surest cure
or soothing salve,
to each predicament
that otherwise might keep you pinned.

With breath,
you’ll know
you’ll ‘be all right,
as it will take you all the way
to the bright day
you shall die,
just as it did
on the day that gave you light
when through your mother’s
blood and waters
you were ushered in.

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