Soul’s Last Breath

To be
breathed
into life
on this beating
green heart
bathed in ocean
and cloud

through seasons
and storms,
infinite mud and
endless music—

song of
rain, river,
bird, boot,
gravel road,
creaky floor,
sleep-sigh
of a beloved
body—

this was my dream.

How sensuous
how curious
to be infant
and ancient

overcome
with tenderness
for the crouched
shape of a small
scared self.

Even as I longed
to feed you
from my hand,
I knew
you could live
hidden
and it was
enough
to breathe
in unison.

Until
the now
when you cried out
with your weeping
questions
and I could answer you
in your own words,
feel them falling
into your
sea-shell ear

and our voice
from your mouth
began to ripple
upward
to turn
the silver
underside
of each leaf
toward the sky.

I loved
every season,
storm and song
but the thing
I held most dear
was to be
breathed
by you.