I offer my soft, warm breath

The flame is sheltered from the rain, like the warmth sheltering in my body.

June 29th, 2009

The ground is like a full-soaked sponge, the water very cold. The sounds are of drips and drops and flowings. Everything is touched by rainwater.

My bare-skinned feet try to bring the stillness of earth into my mind. They are cold, while my breath is warm. I close my eyes and feel that breath, realising that it further connects me with the tree, as I exchange air with the air around the tree, offering warmth from the fire of my body, whose warmth is originally from the absent sun.

I offer the warmth of my feet and the warmth of my breath into the winter that the tree so quietly endures and rests in. She does not breathe in winter, having no leaves.

I have come to commune with the tree, and feel the cold, wet earth, and offer my soft, warm breath.