Breathe Deep the Gathering Bloom

Photo by Terry Owens

The poem Late Lament, by Moody Blues drummer Graeme Edge, is in spoken word as part of the song Nights in White Satin. I must have listened to it often as a teenager in the early/mid 70s. The first line is, "Breathe deep the gathering gloom." The poem ends with, "But we decide which is right and which is an illusion."
Clearly something was stirred recently from those bygone days as the first line of my poem dropped into my head right after an osteopathic treatment.

Breathe Deep the Gathering Bloom

Breathe deep the gathering bloom
as visceral freedom oozes, flows
in, out, and all about.
Open-hearted,
she settles more and more and more
into the bounty of exploring
her Divine fathoms.
Gently she twists the lens
and this time,
each time now,
her innate beauty reveals
in such a way
 that she simply smiles
and knows.
Some detritus may appear
every now and again,
and there may still be some thawing,
but she is keenly aware
of what to do.
Let the decomposition and melting
kindle

as she roots, foliates,
blossoms.
Ah yes,
breathe deep,

loosen, resolve,
allow the ongoing

graceful unfurling
of her beautiful being.
Breathe deep the gathering bloom.

Sarah Carlson

January 29, 2019