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To My Last Breath

When I was a newborn,
I had no experience to reassure me
my first gasp for air
would not also be my last.

Between that first second inhaled reassurance,
and now,
I have operated under a romantic assumption,
More clean and nurturing air will follow.

Now, I have enough post-romantic experience
to deter me
from assuming this next gasp
for healthy air,
for more time to listen for compassion
still surfing in and out
EarthMother’s warm bath of nurtured reassurance
will not also be my ego’s last.

My dramatic eco-memory’s first romantic breath
now also echoes my last timeless moment

Fully
ecstatically re-investing
away from ego’s autonomous wall
of lifetime erected identity
into a webbed forest’s nutritional re-memory
faithfully resurrected again
not autonomous,
unpropertied
unincorporated
unbreathing
more than me.

And I hope I will not be troubled
or even distracted,
by all those competing for air time breaths
assuming falsehoods of ZeroSum economies
in-between first and last.

 

 

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