each breath...

the wind blows through me

weaving into my breath

it's always a dance

it's never my own

there are so many of us

breathing in and breathing out

into each breath

the gentle pungent scent

of grasses and wild herbs

rise up with each step

on this dance of air

of moving space

tendrils of my hair

are taken up into suspension

almost beyond the reach of gravity

yet gravity is directing each step

back to the ground

and this dance

is a dance with gravity

and suspension

arising and falling

with each breath

each step

each gust

the sunlight revealing

only what is not absorbed

into the flesh of each thing

lavender blaze of red grey-green

the curves of the no-so distant hills

only what is not absorbed 

into the flesh

of each breathing thing...

—Lorena