Listen on the Wind

When this breath has run its course
From mouth to throat to lungs to blood and back,
I won’t gasp.

No.
Breathless and expired will I let go,
Into Love’s black ocean.

How many moments have I taken spirit beside you,
Each an incarnation newly met?
And how many skeletons from centuries past have we unearthed
While digging for treasure troves buried in our sandy hearts?

The Pleiades bring the pyre light from a blink away in time.
They have watched us grow and grow all in a celestial cup of tea.
They’ve watched us dance and swing out wide across the floor
And steady,
Steady, whisper back to center.

When this foot lands in seconds or in centuries,
It will find its ground surely solid, welcoming and empty.
As I am now, here, have always been.

Thank you for reminding me to exhale before I left.
Thank you for covering my lips and closing my eyes.
I never would have seen the wonder with them open.

When this breath has run its course,
From mouth to throat to lungs to blood and back;
When the little bansho in my chest stops knocking,
Calling all navels to be watched and cushions to be met,
When Love has mercilessly ravaged this empty hovel
With that same fire which reckoned me into being,
Listen to the wind.

In the branches in the noontide shall you find me dancing,
Lighter than a mother’s goodnight wish.

Listen to the wind for my reminder.

Luke Taylor, March 2006