Breath Poem by Bernadette Bridges

Breath keeps secrets
Of what has lived and what has died.

On the out, breath is lost in the wind
On the in, breath is what was loved and sinned.

Caught between each breath
Is a place I want to go
Holding all stories in an ancient hallow.

Opened to infinity, there is a pure reservoir
Where imagination begins to flow.

My hands write on the wind
With thoughts as big as the blue sky
Where a space of subtle grace answers the question why.

(Bernadette Bridges 9/08)