Deep Breathing Exercise
Michael T. Young
With each breath, I strive to inhale the vastness,
not to the mere bottom of the bronchioles,
but down to the riverbeds,
where the landscape and I merge
into the shuttle weave of a swift
mending the surface of a lake.
I want to come together
where his wings thread its waves,
and wind ties itself into knots,
and what is held is not breath exactly
but the pause before a new connection
binds earth and sky.
I want to draw these things in rings
over the water where lovers and ducks
have waded out, circling each other,
their strokes stirring to the depths
as expanding reflections
silk the reach through overhanging trees,
pass through passing clouds
that break into blue,
rippling clarities that endlessly exhale.
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