I can see my breath again.

Frost enshrined moisture

Suspended and then dispersed,

White against the black,

Star-pricked heavens.

 

It is a comfort

To see my breath again

Because it’s not mine at all.

It’s Yours.

 

You breathed this air-breath,

This life-breath

Into humanity in the beginning.

Today this God-life-breath

Is passed on and on and on.

From a baby’s first gulp,

To a grandmas last rattly gasp.

This life- air.

This life-breath.

 

I can see my breath again.

It is a comfort

A knowing,

A sureness

That the God I can’t see

The God who made me,

His breath is in my lungs,

His life resides in me.

God, in me.

 

The frost bitten cloud

Shows me visibly

what normally escapes in and out of me secretly.

I can see the life-breath.

The God-breath in me.

 

He is here.

Closer than my breath,

Nearer than these bursts of warm meeting cold

Clouding round us as we rush about our lives,

Annoyed with the cold,

Oblivious to this blessing,

This seeing,

This life-breath

On display

Saying,

“I make my home in you.

I give you each breath as a gift.

Each breath a gift.

See it.

See me.

Know me.

Close.

Breathe.”