Seamless Breath

Seamless Breath by Odin Roark At sunrise, Man-child of his heart, Reaches past the years, Washes little sleep down the drain, Accepts the body once tight, Combs the few strands still allegiant, And uniforms the spirit For today’s insistent strategy. The street he walks Presents new calendared thoughts All in parade dress Ready to forever advance An abstract reality, Where boots in lockstep Accompany him beneath dim streetlamps Of his insomnia. Close by, That place everyone calls infinity, His aging self moves forward, Fingering a few coins In the playground-pockets of his youth, Reminding him he can still pay his way, He can remain part of… Like so many other such days, The breeze takes his hand, Making lighter the books He carries inside his head, His secret Trojan Horse, His means of entrance To that place of voiceless teachers, The forever windows without glass, The blackboards erased clean Of yesterday’s answers, Anticipating today’s questions. Such is the place he dreams each day with a smile, Where eternity’s anima reveals the seamless breath of vision Only visible with closed eyes.