Photo by Katie Barnes
I collect these treasures, one
by one, miniature breaths
culled from a vast ether:
The flaming sunset smeared on the sky
like so many dazzling watercolors,
The swelling intimation of clouds—
threatless but fearless,
The scarlet sway of the ocean,
The cursive tilt of your mouth,
The fiery urgency of your fingers
braided between my salt-crusted ribs.
My lungs are
Or is it the air that is too bright,
choking me with too much life?
Oh, angels of excess and overflow, hear
my prayers. Bless me with yet more
abundance and plenty.
Inside the cup of grace,
there is no space for emptiness.