Breathing is life.
It is involuntary.
We cannot will ourselves to stop.
But we can will ourselves to breathe faster or slower.
But even this feat cannot last forever.
In the end, we must trust enough to let our body manage itself.
It is better that way.
Breathing is wonderful.
In choir, we breathe when we practice scales.
I'm a soprano, so I breathe from my upper nasal passages.
Song is like breath on wings.
Song and breath are everywhere.
Outside we hear birds.
In the city, we hear a cacophony of noise.
One can hear car horns, brakes, swearing and brakes screeching as a syncopated rhythm, a moment in nature when breath becomes music.
Breathing gives joy.
Singing gives joy.
Both make my heart sing.
I love to stand in the middle of fresh snow where my boots sink into powder, gently, as an angel lands on a cloud.
I breathe, inhaling the crisp air.
Breathing is life.
recommend this
email
print
link to this page
Comments: 27
maybe plato was right about banning poets from his republic after all