*
it’s the stall that
makes me nervous
the space between
branches that
.
makes me breath
.
the silent wake up
calls before the
birds sing that
has me pray
.

*
it’s the stall that
makes me nervous
the space between
branches that
.
makes me breath
.
the silent wake up
calls before the
birds sing that
has me pray
.
*
slowly I breath
slowly I learn to be
myself mobile
in the universe cosmic
light I shine a bit
as I breath slowly as
a pulsating star
.
.
*
I have learned
about richness
.
breath and time
.
I have been made
rich by this knowledge
.
*
just before
I breathed in I was
breathing out
I run to this
place to be with you
you seem aloof
to life or to give
anything out afraid
even to receive
I play with the birds
trills as people rush
home from work
.
.
.
This poem is part of the collection California Notebooks 02
,
4.
at times when I plant
basil such a delicate plant
I’ve to be careful to synchronize
my breath while I gently press
the dirt around as when
words sprout on paper
.
.
.
.
After Wallace Stevens poem Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
.