A deep breath / and then / the word is a bell / you invite to sound
November 2, 2021
Your Breath, My Hand
You begin slowly, speaking softly, saying, One word at a time, gently we go, with love, just as if you are a cushion of fresh green moss on a wall, beyond which bare fields sleep until spring. And then someone happens along and replies: I, too, am a part of everything. Your breath, my hand. Tell us again how they have become friends. Tell us softly, one word at a time. Gently. With love. Now is the time.
Recently Banned Literature, January 1, 2018
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Categories: New Poems & Pieces, Recently Banned Literature
Tags: Bells, Breath, Diaries, Haiku, Hands, Journals, Listening, Moss, Patience, Peace, Speaking, Spring, Winter, Words