The sound of your breath.

I can hear children calling to each other down in the park, the washing machine whirring just down the hall, R moving around tidying his things… And they’ll all do it again tomorrow, next week, next month… I just won’t be able to hear it. People I love are sleeping soundly in their beds right now, half way around the world, furnishing the night’s silence with their sleeping syllables. I just can’t hear it right now. A sigh, a contended little moan, the stuttered inward breath of one who, in their slumber, has momentarily forgotten their own ever present need for air. The sounds don’t cease, it is the witness who moves.

Tomorrow this witness moves.

Would that I could cast my sense of hearing like a giant fishing line, reaching across the seas, to hear you breathe still. Instead, I create bellows in my mind, they stand in as the song of your breath when I am too far to hear. The sound of your breath – the perfect, eloquent, most heartening message of all – ‘I live still.’ Not that I will begrudge any of your deaths when they come… But, in every moment I can, I fill the bellows in my mind with sound fragments of your actual breath… ‘I live still.’… And I pray that the soundscape of your breathing be made ever richer with the swooping lows of release, the fevered labour of ecstasy, and the steady, warm thrum of loved, loving contentment. All of this and more I would hear in your breath…

Keep breathing my love, keep breathing. May there be many, many more witnesses to your most vitally articulated message to this world – I live still.

May there be Love in all of your living.

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