Breathless Meditation

When did my breath become so delicate?
Each exhale introduces life
To death.
A split second of
Emptiness—
A silent admonition of my weakening
Existence.

Oxygen tantalizes my blackened lungs
With false promises—
There will be another breath in
And out,
Full, then vacant,

It is a cycle I know all too well

Will one day break.

This Day of Judgement
Grows ever more elusive,
The moment when it will become clear Whether I was ever really living.

Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Grab hold of that void in your chest
And find a home in its
Tender darkness,
Fill it with memories of
What it was like to live.

A Body, a Soul,
What it means to be human:
Little piece of the Universe
That somehow contains all of it,
You possess a lifetime of living,
Time spent with the World belonging
Only to You.

So if you’re given the chance to
Breathe in again,
Seize this opportunity to start back up
Where someone, somewhere,
Ended.
Tell the tale of the living;
Decorate the world with vibrant illustrations—
Your rendition of our shared story
Will accompany you when the
air
runs
out