A Poem for Moments of Anxiety

We move through hot and cold,
Hot and cold.

There is grass;
There is sky;
There is breath.....

Are you paying attention to the
Punctuation?
The pauses:
There to let you take your time;
There to allow a slowing down.

There is no hurry.

Let's start again.

We move through hot and cold,
Hot and cold.

There is grass;
There is sky;
There is breath.....
Solid earth supports us;
And there is more air
Than we can ever draw into our lungs.

There is a woman of years,
Her thin, soft skin
Sags gently in paper wrinkles:
I want to follow them with my finger,
Experience such delicacy
That could tear open,
If pressed with more than the lightest touch.

Dragonflies dance,
Flashing their iridescence
In waves of sunlight.
Their turquoise hue matches my mascara,
Though I don't think they've noticed:
They are utterly absorbed in what they are doing.

Here is breath;
Here are fingers;
Here is flesh.....

I am steadfast as a tree trunk,
As light as a leaf.

In-spire.....
Out-spire.....
No need for anything more.