I am

 

 

not

 

 

 

God

 

 

The breath inside of me is closer

 

than I could ever be to grace-

 

it is closer to the essence of creation

 

than what I perceive myself to be

 

                                                daily

 

 

The wind dances across the world

 

an act of worship and of life

 

as I sit and watch and worry

 

about the too many things, everything,

 

                                                the
quotidian

 

 

A misunderstanding of my understanding

 

of God, the being I am not, yet pray to;

 

attempting to grasp the completely ethereal

 

from within the quagmire of my material temple

 

                                                with
spirit

 

 

Breathe – the breath within is grace

 

it allows me to sit and watch and worry

attempting to understand, though incompletely;

 

perhaps, I should simply breathe – it is breath which

 

                                                transforms

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