It's hard to explain breathing to someone who doesn't believe in air.
The air causes your pulse to go 'round.
Gives life you never asked for or have to appreciate.
Changes the world by fractions you'd never notice if you didn't look.
Moves invisibly in and through everything.
Traces of it are in every location,
every memory, every moment.
Unknown dependance is in every being,
like it, believe it or not.
Air holds clouds together and brings the rain.
Sweeps the deserts and starts the day new.
Even when it's blamed for pollutants we put it in,
it stays the same, innocent, yet unfathomably important.
Can crumble mountains.
Rip ships through the water.
Guide a leaf to the ground.
Breathing is when we let the air in and feel it there.
We let it wring us of our filth.
We let it consume us.
When we remember we are the little things.
We are roses to be smelled.
Air has always been with us.
It knows us.
Air only hopes
that we will know it too.
Passionate like a bear. Stubborn as a ram. Systematic as a rocket scientist.
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