Air My Breath

I’ve been thinking a lot about air lately, in all of its attributes.

In my spirituality, the element of Air with a capital A is not just that invisible H20 gas that surrounds our planet. It’s a whole list of human and earthly traits that describe our world.

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Air is the benefactor of breath,
Keeper of the fragile atmospheric bridge we breathe across.
Air, waiting outside the womb, to funnel the first breath,
drawn from its invisible stock, to wail.
 
Supporter of birds, bees, butterflies, and any other creature possessing wings.
Air, that wafts scents that stir our taste buds, as well as our memories.
Air, along whose unseen path voices come to us in waves.
Voices that can persuade every door of the heart open, in tides of music that erases time.
 
Air, vast expansive neighborhood of the invisible,
Where thought lives,
Entering us as voice to our own ideas,
Enabling us to put names and faces on things
That would otherwise stay forever unrecognized. Unnamed.
 
 Home of memory, where our vanished days secretly gather,
Taking all our unfolding in, so that nothing is lost or forgotten.
Except, nothing’s perfect; we do forget.
 
Air, counting our breaths to meditate,
To let go of the past,
Or reduce anxiety about the future.
To control pain of contractions,
Or a flare of anger.
 
Air, Kingdom of spirit,
Breathing prayers to
Where our departed dwell.

Thousands nearer to us now than when they departed, 
Their breathing tainted.
Forced to take their last breath.
Alone.
 
Air is an intimate element.
It gets right into you,
through your breathing and your blood.
We’ve taken it for granted,
And we’ve tried to repair what we ruined.

But few saw this coming.
At least I didn’t.
Unfortunately, we can’t do without,
You know, Air.

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Air, always there,
May fix herself, if we let her.
Leave her alone. Get out of her way.
Give her time
To heal.

Blessed Be.