Your Breath

Your breath permeates spaceYour breath fills time’s bodyleaving teeth marks on steep ocean cliffsimplanting lightning into desert summitsAt times like thisI really don’t know who you areYet I can feelmy soul rapidly descendingsinking into a blue zoneSometimes I discover it’s risinglike the pupils of a blind manGold radiance is sailing to the unknown harbor

Your breathis the breath of wormwoodThe colors of so many plants I know wellIt has no shapeand no soundWhenever it arrivesdesire begins to come back to life, suddenly awakeningSilent trees emit sounds of longingIn this moment, I can seedistant mountain shadows oscillate

The waves that rise and fall foreverThe sea’s moaning and burningThe shouts without languageThe original long-held notesThe free arcs of whalesThe shouts shells transmit from the ocean floorI know this eternal flying and landingis like arrows of lightlike flameslike blood that can’t be stoppedOnly on that beach where fear and death dissolvecan I find my forgotten self for a moment

I don’t know whose breath this isWhy don’t we name its presence?I seem to have smelled this breath beforeIt’s the wild storm and memory

A string of turquoise in the darknessSeeds in springMusk in the fieldsRoses in the earth’s depthsIt can reachthe smooth, moist watersin all mothers’ abdomensthat can become pregnant with life

Whose breath is this?It enshrouds me, covers mebefore I’ve truly awakenedI really don’t know whose breath it is