A column of light, filled with air

I am a column of light

filled with air.

This column,

infused as it is with air and light,

allows nothing to get inside.

No virus.

No ego (not even my own).

No chaos whatsoever.

 

As a child in Sunday school,

wearing church socks and penny loafers,

innocent as a wild blueberry,

I learned that Jesus said,

“I am the light of the world.

Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness,

but will have the light of life.”

 

At an ashram in Brooklyn last year,

with quaffed hair and a nose ring,

wild with cosmopolitan abandon,

I learned about wave breathing

and the inevitability of death.

 

Now, as I walk through

the valley of invisible fire,

my wife seven months pregnant,

I will fear nothing.

No virus.

No ego (not even my own).

No chaos whatsoever.

My rod (the light)

and my staff (my breath)

comfort me.

Martinsburg, W. Va, 2020

 

 

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