My lungs

My lungs have
the whole atmosphere of earth
surrounding them
and they keep breathing,
asking for more.
My organs and tissues, bathed in blood,
crave it, the blood
that keeps flowing, that keeps them alive,
my vessels opening wide for more.
My heart keeps pumping,
asking and giving,
taking in and letting go,
always wanting the next handful,
always wanting more.
Is this prayer, I wonder,
the enfolding presence
and the insatiable longing?

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
Listen to the audio recording:

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