World of water cupping
your head,
you float in sensory deprivation
tanks,
for the memory, it rises and
falls
with your breathing,
pumped
zones of polaris and destiny
through
your waiting line,
ready to shine.

These eyes are closed,
the mind
gone inwards for the steady breath
a calvacade,
grant us sorrow the whisper
leaves your lips
breath visible to touch,
mist upon
the grassland of your birth.