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Poem: Plenty of Breathing


Plenty of breathing into my belly

filling my alveoli and yours,

diaphragm enlarging, bringing in

oxygen. Feather floating

under the nose like

the Japanese warriors,

no touching, no hands.


Can I do it?

Depleting my body of

oxygen so that the out breath is so gentle

not to blow the feather away?

My body's organs becoming more

efficient as they intricately take in

the oxygen that is in short supply.


I would rather

write with a feather pen.

Does that count?

Those Japanese warriors,

they were centered.

They could

cultivate and navigate


the yin and the yang,

the incessant critical voice,

accepting it

and recognizing it

for it has been

trying to protect

me all along.


A Johnson


Photo by A Johnson

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