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Not a poem about smoking This
is not a poem about smoking
because there is no poetry in smoking.
spaThere
is no music in the merchandising of death.
spaThere
is no wordplay in the exploitation of breath.
spa
spaThere's no liberation
of spirit
spa spain
commercializing our capacity to breathe,
spa
spa spaNo
revivifying rhythm
spa spa
spain caging the will within
addiction. There is no poetry in smoking
and this
is not a poem about smoking.
spaThis is a poem
about
spa what's left to us to love:
spa
spain Latin, the word is
spiritus, the breath. Ahh...
Say it with
me, the sound you're breathing out
spawhen something
stirs your heart: ahhh
Say it with me, the sound you're breathing out
spawhen something soothes your spirit: ahhh
Say
it with me, the sound you're breathing out
spawhen
something gives you grace: ahhh Ahh...
The sound
of our encounter
with love, beauty, peace, grace, release—
with whatever
it is we hold to be holy. Ahh...
The syllable
we humans have, from the beginning,
breathed into naming that Power of Being
who breathes the breath of life into us: spiritus Say
it with me: | Ahh | God | Ahh | Danu | Ahh | Anat | Ahh | Kali |
| Ahh | the father | Ahh | Ishtar | Ahh | Ann | Ahh | Shakti |
| Ahh | Allah | Ahh | Inanna | Ahh | Mara | Ahh | Yemaya |
| Ahh | Jehovah | Ahh | Astarte | Ahh | Brahma | Ahh | God |
| Ahh | Yaweh | Ahh | Asherah | Ahh | Tara | Ahh | |
In the name of all that we hold holy,
In the names
of all that we all hold holy,
let us commend ourselves to spirit
conspire
to love the breath. Amen | 