under the weight of the universe,
a breath becomes a miracle
against the law of nature, the pervasive
cling of gravity on everything it touches.
every bit of me is against
the pull of the earth. my ribs heave.
it satiates the hunger of my lungs
for space, for its place.
when I tire, and succumb to the force
demonstrate that in my most serene
- supine and asleep, I fought to live,
for every breath is a miracle.
i haven't written in a year. it seems as if the pandemic drained me so much more than i thought it could.
may we find rest during these trying times.
a.s.