There is a moment
(there is always a moment)
a moment of my breath
taken in great
huge -
not sobs,
not gasps -
though it has been that
(surely has been that!)
often has been that,
this breathing of mine;
but this breathing of mine
is not that.
It is wholly,
Completely
Different.
Not gentle,
this breath, but
Full -
Full as life, and
Out to the edges
of me, the wholeness of me
and beyond, just beyond:
full, and just fuller still,
Not gentle -
but full and
still.
And I held it there,
this breath -
this expanding
expansive
outward
inward
held
breath,
Held it for a moment
that was eternal
an infinite moment
of holding breath -
Only to exhale.
Not gentle,
but out to the edges
and full -
an exhale of
suddenness,
of a moment,
endless and still,
and I was -
in that space of infinite
beginning and endless ending
Complete.
I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. I n the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy. If nothing else, I've learned to make a mean cup of coffee.
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