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\nThe body is a flute.
\nSans breath tis aught but a tube with holes.
\nWith breath it has a voice,
\na timbre,
\na cadence,
\nan arc,
\na persona.<\/p>\n
\nThe body is a flute.
\nSans breath tis aught but a tube with holes.
\nWith breath it has a voice,
\na timbre,
\na cadence,
\nan arc,
\na persona.<\/p>\n
Only when breath flows do we live,
\nand yet breath is not of us.
\nIt is of the world:
\nit passes thru and goes on.
\n…<\/p>\n
Breath is the river and the tide,
\nthe current and the orbit,
\na motion more stable than stillness.<\/p>\n
As long as the breath flows thru it,
\nan animal is alive, a complex system.
\nWhen the last breath goes out,
\nthe animal dissolves back into elements.
\nWhile it lives, the animal knows the sweet and the bitter,
\nthe sour, the salty, the pungent, the meaty.
\nWhen it dies, it is food for others,
\nthat they may taste life.
\n…<\/p>\n
Breath will show you wonders:<\/em> \n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The body is a flute. Sans breath tis aught but a tube with holes. With breath it has a voice, a timbre, a cadence, an arc, a persona. Only when breath flows do we live, and yet breath is not of us. It is of the world: it passes thru and goes on. … Breath… <\/p>\n
\nOne day, a bright, shiny frog.<\/em>
\nAnother time, a cloud, holy in its bath of light.<\/em>
\nHere, the words of a stranger passing.<\/em>
\nThere, a skeleton’s shadow.<\/em>
\n…<\/p>\n