A Breathing Love
Those that I now love
are the dead who yet live on.
They are no longer memories,
but dwell under the rib cage
of this world.
Their lungs breathe in and out
magnifying every iota of creation
into a universe unto itself.
These are the hidden wombs
of all births.
Love is in them,
not as a past or future wave,
nor in any hand-me-down ocean,
but as an ever cresting Now.
Such a breath continually recreates
what the God seed has planted just once.
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