pneumo
…the presence of air

every parent listens for it
   tip-toeing into silent room
      to watch the rise and fall
the chest of sleeping child
…a quiet, perfect
      angelic form.

aeolian movement
   within aveoli
      from the moment of birth
air becomes gold
   by the tiny cry of life
for breath is sacred
   and the veil is thin

children laugh
lovers whisper
the grieving weep
we have voice as
breath goes in
breath goes out
a sacred respiration
   oh, the veil is thin

flute is played
   and breath is drawn
clarinet, bassoon,
trombone
      all infused with breath

but when breath is gone
   and trumpet sounds
we wait
   …and wait
      …for breath again
but the veil is thin
and breath is sacred

breath goes in

…breath goes out

   breath goes in

   …breath goes out

      breath goes in

      ……breath goes out

pneuma
…the spirit, the soul

I stood beside her,
…in her mourning.
   In the grief wrenching,
      soul shaking,
         silence.
She’d stood for hours,
    staring…
love, streaming down her cheeks.

But, in the end,
when he’d looked at her
…she knew,
and I stood beside her.

She’d seen him
…in the morning of his life
when breath was firmly grasped.
She watched him
as breath expired…
    on timber frame.
Now, soul shattered,
her mother’s heart is crucified.

The trees

in winter dress

kissed by frost

on branches bare.

In the fog

   white on white

      quiet delight.

Lord, may gentleness
fall from me,
like an autumn leaf
drifting in the breeze
to greet the ground.

May gentleness
be noticed
…in my touch
   …and word
      …and quiet,
In my work,
…and rest
   …and play.

Red acorn shells lie empty
under the snow filled trailer,
a weathered wooden trailer,
   once filled with children,
   and produce,
   branches
   and leaves.
But it has been here for many years
sheltering squirrels who eat acorns
in the winter sun.