Grey morning, drips drop Gravity pulls water home, My lungs see the snow.
Their eyes watch flakes fall, While gathering oxygen, And rest. All is well.
My lungs see the snow. My loud shadow is welcomed, Infinite love sewn.
Into ev’ry home, And the fibers of auras: Grace and compassion.
Release, surrender; Time to bow down now, and L i v e : Freer than ever.
She said her career Is life or death. I must ask: Where is her breath?
If you die before You die, then when you die, you Don’t really die, right?
For myself, and for All souls: nourished and famished – I devour breath…
For all beings who Skimp on oxygen intake And carbon output,
I devour breath.
Now, Here, I declare: The breath is my sacred Guide,
Teacher, and Savior.
Welcoming all in, And letting everything go,
The divine window.
Sacred lungs, beloved eyes, Vast seers, unknown sages:
Stretch light everywhere.
Forge healing pathways, With family, and Heart –
Letting peace reign forever.
Forward, backward, and To every side, people Forgive, understand,
And stand underneath Every last soul. Sewing Grace and compassion.
Into the human hem.
Drips drop, humanity Is complete, in transience,
We sit still until The breath moves us up and down.
But for now, p e a c e , b l i s s .