The
breath.
The
breath comes in and out.
Each
in, a refreshment;
each
out, a release.
Behind
closed eye lids
a
swirling darkness
speckled
with thoughts,
in
and out, head lines.
The
tears.
Then
the tears, soft and kind,
little
kisses at the corners
abscond
with bits of worry.
Each
escapee stealing a strain,
erasing foolish doubts
in rivulets of sighs and
in
loosening the pangs of pain.
The
balance
The
see-saw of obligation,
each
push and pull, each in and out
stretches
to the corners of the mind.
And
there is epiphany:
now
the scale bears equal weight,
the
tug-a-war is evened
and
there is symmetry.
The
memory
The
memory divides and conquers,
restores
understanding
to
trials and tribulations.
The
center is calm
despite
each push and pull
and
stretches the mind
to
the corners of the universe.
Return
to the breath.
The
breath returns invisible
silent,
unseen, conveying
simplicity
to chaos.
The
breath reminds the soul
that
the things it knows
are
still true; are truer still
and
the body is whole.
That is really good.
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