Poem September 1, 1986 Issue

Breath of heaven

MARIO TOSTO

Did the lightning frighten,
the thunder offend?

Did some flimsy specter
predicting its own end

trick and convict you of finity, too?

You owe it no homage,
this sick, pseudoself.

You do have the strength to
break the cruel pact

with a deep-yielding draft of Truth-knowing
that sings out the fact that

you are not

a fear-crumpled,
porous
envelope of matter
straining
to trap just enough
life
to carry on
weakly
just a
little while
longer

BUT

you are

reality's child, who never left heaven,
where living, moving, and being
are free.

You're the fresh inspiration
of Soul's holy knowing,

the sweet exhalation
of Love's own song.

MARIO TOSTO

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