you are but a whisper on the lips of God.
as a whisper, you pass on ever so soon,
like a line of poetry written on the waters of creation.
yet the greatness of a whisper is that it is passed on…
Charles P. Thorp.
wind breathes the whole world to your face
all of it, all
imagine, imagine how that is
because, because it is real, it is
all that is, a catspaw whisper on your ears
it is touching the skin of your face
it is tasting your mouth, the inside of you
it is breathing, you
Sahara blazing into space. that forest sea-breeze cove that
no one yet has found. that park down two blocks when you were
only this much tall. a field of unbound wheat visible after climbing
the low hills crest. the place where you first felt yourself alone.
stone and salt and gulls inside the wind.
your lovers kiss between the sheets. your lover twenty years ago.
that baby you touched inside its damp eager grasp.
your mothers breath
revised 2019.10.13 (inc. the former title, breathing)