I take a deep breath and slowly ever so slowly let it go. I feel it seeping into my flailing limbs coursing through my doing bubbling through my brain. It is content to distribute itself as it pleases to go where it wants at its own pace. No anxious breath has this capacity. No! that breath screams to be released. Forces its way out. Gasps for more. This breath is not that breath. This breath is patient, satisfied dignified content with its status. This breath makes no demands except, as it were, when it has run its course, and has supplied my need. And now I need another. This deep breath exits slowly without fanfare making way for the next. I do not thank this breath do not consider its significance its magnificence its wonder. I simply take another and another as if I was made for this and it for me As if it would go on forever as if I would. Grate.....full.....
A million lights twinkle above me in constellations I once knew. Bright lights from bodies trillions of miles away scatter the early morning darkness. I whirl in wonder at their glorious display.
How, O Lord, can I fail to believe you are here?
My feet, rooted in dust and dirt, are heavy in the sand of time, in the gnarled root of twisted words and weighty worries. It bends me and pulls me down, insisting I pay attention. I fall again and again at my own feet.
How, O Lord, can I believe you are here?
Is there another? Another who reaches and falls, reaches and falls, as I do this day? My expiration, she inspires? His expiration, I inspire? Do we, together, breathe the universe?
How, O Lord, could we not believe, if we knew one another?