Mother of Breath
When you are spiritless, dis-spirited,
and fear that I have left you,
I Am near as a breath:
Open to Me, and I am dancing,
caressing within.
My Universe enfolds you,
breathing like a lung.
My Spiral is the reason that "expired" means dead
and "inspired" means moved to create.
I Am conspiracy, uniting
respiration, desperation, inspiration, expiration.
I breathe organic sanity and health, joy and laughter.
Despair is Mine; it is the irritant
that bends you back toward hope (espoir!)
makes you aspire to better things.
All reality belongs to Me,
along with all mysteries.
Sleep and I dream you,
weaving night with My tapestry of colors.
On a good day, I will follow My storms
with water color rainbows.
Meditate, trance,
and I may give you visions waking.
When you die, you fly safe
in the folds of My dark cloak.
But there's plenty of time for that!
Live now! I have lifted up
the rag of your body with My energy.
I need you to play your part.
I have enough ghost-dancers.
I want you in the flesh
to dance with Me, every which way.
You might even enjoy it,
if you're bold enough
to rip the cords that bind you.
And at the sound of ripping,
praise Me.
© Tamara Rasmussen 2018