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No Name
The breath has no name
In your night dreams
And in your waking days
Your breath like an old
Friend
behind the
Scenes flickering through
the frames
of the passing days
The breath has no name
It is you that comes
and it is you that goes
you that reaches high
and you that reaches low
But the breath remains
Untouched untrivialised
By the beginnings of man
By the endings of his
Canned life
Reeled off and cut
In 4/4 land
Into existence
Then out again
A pandemic living
On a soldier’s gun
The follicles of a diseased
Arm in the sun
But the breath remains
The same
It was never born
And will never die
No edges no sides.
__________________
Too much intellectual pride and not enough intellectual beauty
To Thine own Self be True
The Frost performs its secret ministry,Unhelped by any wind. Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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