gratitude, katharine griffiths, katharinegriffiths, Poetry, storytelling, women

Out Breath

green grass field and mountain

‘This may be the last time I see you.
I’m so glad you came.’
The trip was a whirlwind,
but of course we made it.

She was the same as I remembered,
a bit crass and a lot stubborn,
proud of the life she had made,
reminding us to focus on what matters.

‘Breathe the joys of life deep into your Self’
Family. Friends. Home.
‘Breathe out life’s expectations’
Title. Status. Money.

‘Does a fancy car or impressive title define you?
Are you what you have,
what you do?
Something else entirely, perhaps?’

The countryside, as we drove,
a pine tree blanket over lush hills,
exposed the river now and then,
signs of moose crossings dotted our path.

We never did see a moose,
but we did, for a brief time, get a window
into another world, one of simply living,
a reminder to focus on what matters.

We may not see her again.
She will be cherished, always reminding us,
‘Life is lived somewhere between
the in-breath and the out-breath.’

We’re so glad we went.

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