Breathe

Breathe in the Open SkyNostrils flare in anticipation
as earthy caramel smells sift
past heady cavities, past
gates which open up to lift
eyeballs and ear tips tingly,
chilly red and awake. Brain
swoons soft by the glow
of fresh air flow, rushing in and down,
as chest and rib cage expand out,
extrude on an excursion to full balloon.
Neck, spine and cartilage joints gather
to allow room. Liquid xylophone bones
bloom as body soaks in tipsy
nourishing oxygen lessons,
rush of ancient, instinctive motions
learned, zillions of times churned,
practiced measures, yet new and vital
with each sumptuous breath.

Now exhale slow, soft thoughts as
your spine elongates toward the sky.

Breathe. Repeat.

Through the Alexander Technique, I’ve learned, again, how to breathe, to really breathe, without tension, without clenched neck, stressed chest or anxious eyes. Letting my body breathe as it has learned for millions of years, is like being reborn with each breath.

Katydid!

True Katydid
Sometimes
pondering the beauty in life is not enough to feed my spirit. Those times the dark side keeps me sane. This poem is about seeing clearly what is before me, not just rosy hopes. As Richard Bach wrote in his book Illusions, “Perspective. Use it or lose it.” The truth is often not pleasant when looked at closely.

Lost in the crowd of mumbling voices
I barely know what to say, at least out loud.
They all were telling me it was Katy,
“Katy did it, Katy did, Katy…” Katy did what?
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The Arch

Held as if by air
The arch falls toward
Itself in a perpetual dare
Against gravity’s weight,
Transforming that burden
Into its own stout might.

Would that democracy learned
From such converse strength.
So, backbone to backbone, barred
Over emptiness, iron will
Of truth might defy the
Abyss of political ills.