Breathe. Breath.

Breathe, breath – together
these bespeak my being
life and death,
hope and despair,
comfort and trouble.

At the bottom and top of
each breath I breathe, in
cradling my death, I
receive and see whom
I am: neither
hero nor coward, neither
genius nor fool, neither
saintly nor diabolic but
both – in my between
inspiration and expiration.

Breathe. Breath. The ‘e’ is me.

2 thoughts on “Breathe. Breath.

  1. shoreacres says:

    Now, this is a Lutheran poem: law/gospel, saint/sinner, inspire/expire — nicely done!

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