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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Breeze, storm, tempest, tornado, wind, Typhoon, you are named, yes, whirlwind, Yet, you have well compressed yourself; In me, into a gasp, named breathe, Without which I have a mere death, Thus commanding terms on myself... I could hear your voice utter once, In a debate of unique sense, Your whisper was serene and sweet; Admirations on you I poured, As the plants and trees applauded, In a richly rhythmic movement... 'Lovely you are, I commented, Lavishly cute, high spirited, Gracefully sweet is your murmur; Yet looking into your movement, I often tend to calculate, You are a nomad, wanderer... It's then lightly and politely, Talking to me rather freely, You'd told me many a secret; Authentic, spiritual, pure, That makes mortals feel sure secure, Realistic and innocent... Just like breathing, indeed, breathe's sigh, And her loyal philosophy, Fascinating, enlightening; Nomad, gypsy, and traveler, Migrant I am and wanderer, Enthralling, real enchanting... Yet, my child, have you realized, I have you in me imprisoned, And have kept you prompt permanent; In my nomadically pure, safe, perennially secure, life-giving divine little hand… It's when I had far away moved, From the gushy maddening crowd, And started reflecting calmly; On the breath's bewildering words, Dawned on me Gautam the Buddha's, Renunciation theory... True as the very Truth itself, Is breath's unique unerring self, Does the daylight any lie say? Who upon this earth so divine, Or under the gorgeous heaven, Live without breath a single day? Breathe is in me; I am in Breath, It's, indeed dead-sure- till my death, I can never refute this fact; Breath utters and breath punctuates, Breath whispers; breath murmurs and sighs, Breathing is world's unending act... I got imprisoned in the breath, When in my mother's divine depth, I received charming human form; Knowingly or unknowingly, Willingly or unwillingly, I got surrendered in breath's arm... Breathe has adopted me wholly, Affectionately, benignly, Giving me gifts of the Spirit; Entering in my every nerve, And my physique's each muscle curve, Made me melodious flute, lute... I play on I am played on 04/27/2021 Writing Prompt - Breathe - Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Constance La France
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