At the end of my exhalation
is a space – a gap.
I pause and pray there,
reveling in the utter silence 
for a second or two,
before the incoming rush of air 
brings form again.

I long for the quiet of that space 
several times in an hour 
as the day progresses. 
It is a persistent longing 
that unfolds inside of me 
in radical fantasies of becoming a monk, 
Or living in a cabin alone 
in the mountains for a year.

It arises in a quest towards minimalism 
as I relinquish accumulated 
householder trappings 
in the hope for a spacious moment 
or an empty counter at least.

But then I come back to the gap 
and recognize the availability 
of open space is a constant offering 
to my weary heart.

With a slight Inward rotation 
of awareness I can rest 
Into the softness there.

As fleeting as it is, 
the gap is full of wisdom, 
strength and hope 
that something of value and meaning 
will arise through my life movements 
that can join us – one to another – 
in the beauty of silent space and 
simple breath.