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