These gusts and swift shifts
when we are away
and this thing so young
makes me weary of every next move
Yet some sage whispers
'You can be lonely, very lonely,
and not swept away.'
And I nod
feel nostrils
and breath and body
Remembering practices and words
and those things beyond words
things I suspect all warm bellies affirm
things I'm trying with all my energy
to take in
just a little more
just a little more
each previous take
the soil
for more mature and more present breaths
Yes,
this head that droops
that sometimes droops
is not quite me
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