Breathe.
Inhale deep.
Let the afternoon sink
into your tired lungs
on golden wings of daylight
and ease.
Breathe.
Exhale slow.
Let oxygen, nitrogen,
carbon dioxide and pollution
whisper from your bloodstream
and mingle with the trees.
Purify.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Breathe.
Count to five (for me).
One:
stretch each muscle of your fingertips--
first knuckle,
second knuckle,
third.
Two:
curl your toes inside your shoes;
feel your socks stretch
inch by
inch.
Three:
spell your name until it sticks;
seven letters raindance
just to comfort
you.
Four:
Tell me where you live,
how the squeak-springed couch sinks
under the weight of family
and love.
Five:
close for me your tired eyes;
shifting patterns of stars wrap your dark
in brightness
and calm.
Then breathe.
Inhale deep and exhale slow.
Untie the knots from your shoulders,
and open the cage to your chest.
Breathe.
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
Breathe.
Inhale deep.
Let the afternoon sink
into your tired lungs
on golden wings of daylight
and ease.
Breathe.
Exhale slow.
Let oxygen, nitrogen,
carbon dioxide and pollution
whisper from your bloodstream
and mingle with the trees.
Purify.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Breathe.
Count to five (for me).
One:
stretch each muscle of your fingertips--
first knuckle,
second knuckle,
third.
Two:
curl your toes inside your shoes;
feel your socks stretch
inch by
inch.
Three:
spell your name until it sticks;
seven letters raindance
just to comfort
you.
Four:
Tell me where you live,
how the squeak-springed couch sinks
under the weight of family
and love.
Five:
close for me your tired eyes;
shifting patterns of stars wrap your dark
in brightness
and calm.
Then breathe.
Inhale deep and exhale slow.
Untie the knots from your shoulders,
and open the cage to your chest.
Breathe.
