This, or That?

With merriment we are endowed --
To see the fantasies in clouds,
The humor of our feats and fears,
The laughter in the here and now.

Such pleasure yet we oft repress
And turn our thoughts instead to stress.
The loss, the pain,
The want, the gain--
The games which bring us
Naught but less,
And focus on our emptiness.

Breath

Stillness, centering
Exquisite equilibrium
in the pause between --
Was it out or in?

The rhythm begins again
Taking time to observe
What a gift it is
Infusing matter with spirit.

The body like a sail
Filling with wind.
Watching, I take the rudder.
Attention becomes intention.

I set a course
For this vessel I inhabit
By simply making what is automatic
Conscious.

I ride breath
Like a spider sailing the wind.
Held aloft by the thread of my awareness.
Inhalation gathering, grounding --
A sea anchor filling.
Power summoned and held
In celebration of being.

The body's outline
Inked in by air,
Indelible if only for a moment.
It is enough.

I arrive at rest,
So full I bleed into the universe.
Off the page
And into possibility.

The wave of exhalation crests
I slip inside the curl,
Gliding long, slow and light
Until the water becomes froth
Laced with air.
And the cycle begins again.

Life, length, breadth, breath, depth, death
In and out --
Each a chance
To choose.  A choice.

Attachment?
Patterned and predictable
A pretty and familiar prison...

Or freedom?
Following heart and soul's desire.