What shall I do with this body they gave me

 What shall I do with this body they gave me,
so much my own, so intimate with me?

For being alive, for the joy of calm breath,
tell me, who should I bless?

I am the flower, and the gardener as well,
and am not solitary, in earth’s cell.


My living warmth, exhaled, you can see,
on the clear glass of eternity.


A pattern set down,
until now, unknown.


Breath evaporates without trace,
but form no one can deface.

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