These days there is no life in me,
but for breath
in-and-out with pain.
Awaiting a final exhale,
to be alive again!
No longer palpable-agonizing,
recalling what used to be…
Become a sensory-spirit, nature,
not, I,
but a glance –
at wildflowers in the fields:
yellow, pink, azure,
in beds of plush green.
As children we twirled in its midst,
atop a tire-swing,
magicians of imagination:
We were gypsies,
blew daffodil-wishes.
Second chapter.
Yesterday’s lover,
his breath-the dew,
over my shoulders
become tree branches for birds:
I love you, forever in their song.
My precious body…
breasts, waistline, buttocks, protruding collar-bones,
neck and knees, spine and feet,
the heart
(its season finale)
defeated.
Let each cell transform
into wind–
With every breeze
capture hap-peace-ness
[when words are omnipotent].
No memory to ponder.
No yesterday to bid farewell.
No tomorrow to long for…
Each story and dream,
their challenges and anticipation,
simply become.
An the relief…
It soars!
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