unbounded

Closing the eyes,
I find the breath in my belly.
At first, just noticing the inhale,
the exhale.

Feeling the expansion in the center.
The empowerment of the inhale,
the frightful grip of the exhale.
Will I get another breath?
Is this the last?

Stepping back, something realizes
the self gripping.
Recognizes the pattern
and doesn't push it away,
brings it closer with an easeful gaze.

That gripping, that self, is the vector of
all the compassionate love ever expressed,
all that ever will be.

So appreciate it.
Thank the gripping.
Love the gripping.

And stay with the breath.

Like a tidal transition,
they come like waves
and begin to change.

But I am not changing it.

Breath slows.
Exhales lengthen.
Edges soften.

Am I breathing,
or is breath breathing?

Gripping eases,
and looking drops
from the head to the chest.

The chest opens.
The heart unfolds.
Skin dissolves.
The world expands.

And I
am doing nothing.

This is being done.

A world ajar.
A heart opening.

Boundless

undoing.