Getting to the Root of Me

I crawl among the branches
  of the roots of my soul,
     as the worries of my thoughts
       take wing to the sky.
        I climb further down
          to the core of my being,
           and peer into the recesses
            of my inner darkness.
             And there I see an
              ancient crone
               sitting in repose,
                sipping from the nectar
                 of the gods,
                   clad in the robes
                    of the goddesses.
                      I commune with the
                         beginning of time,
                       the edge of the universe,
                      the center of existence.
                  And I see the thread of
                connection from me to my
             crone, to her crones all the
         way back...to me.
       I breathe deep and
      absorb them all into my heart center
    and hold them there
   as I climb back to the
  upper roots of the branches
 of my physicality.
 And return to here.
Now.

Breathing

Breathing

Breathe in.  Breathe out.

One.

Breathe in.  Breathe out.

Two.

Breathe in.  Breathe out.

Three.

   Breath after breath
       put end to end
          strung together, one after another

a chronic chain breather

filling each moment

    consciously unconsciously           
    structure                      

              chaos                                                           

breath                     

until the last bit of air is drawn in

                                        until life is exhaled

                                                                   until a lifetime is fulfilled

Three.

Two.

One.