Return to Breath
Birds flying through a backlit sky with ghostly fog rising dense and high The call of a wayward owl reaches through and bounces back muffled as if covered by a cowl Breath from below wary eyes billows out and hangs still too warm to fall and too heavy to rise This is the world before and aft the remnants of what's left and promise of what comes next Silence replaces the constant roar of a species always in the midst of war The quiet ones are fewer now but slowly taking over The planet breathing once again with trees and streams and yin and yang