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
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