A filter through the thin bare trees,
Such morning bursts are bashful in the blue.
Takes up the dewy hills between,
And lays them sharply down in shadows flat.

Familiar voices from so far afield,
Greet my ears through speckled waves,
Cast upon the rocks and turned to foam,
Though flashes clarify to spear the ebb,
Onwards I press for this I know:
The waves do march from far afield,
And I hear friends though hold them not.

Sharing music once again,
It's words in hidden alphabet,
Phrases calling out to soul,
And glory for The Highest One,
He distilled beauty into frequencies,
And let's us dance to merry tunes,
And let's us think to gentle jazz,
And let's us praise Him in this meaning,
In these hidden alphabets.

Breathing deeply seems as strenuous as it is rewarding.
A firm tug on the wind,
A gift of life,
A moment of repose.

All these bouts and boisterous laughter,
begin and end with a deep hearty breath.

A deep breath...
Thanks for walking with me today.
You are the air we breathe.