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