We who breathe into warm night recover
from lost day. We who pray to distant light
of endless energy—who lost lovers
through breaking glass, through tossing love’s insight
out care’s bedroom window onto parched earth—
breathe in our reality’s consequences,
breathe out whatever soul’s poison gave birth
to. We who breathe into dawn—our senses
waking to new day’s possibilities
if we but stay with breathing bright vision
throughout brief day—realize how we please
each cell’s deep desire: to share precision
of existing and beyond. We who breathe
in the universe relearn to believe.
Roger Armbrust
April 12,
2013
