Cracked Breaths

           I sit here gasping for air. Just the bitterness of the
cool morning air stings inside my lungs. Was it the
necessary push to drag my feet to the floor?

           Oh how the day exploded in necessary sleeping
patterns. Hunkered over pillows stacked high, as though
no other way to breathe. Still the ragged prayer
opened some form of a passage.

           A silent sigh of relief for just a moment of
peace, of not clotted tightened lungs. Not the pressure of
cracked ribs. Just the softest of spaced, shallow whispers.

           Silly as just one moment can seem but the joy of
walking from point A to point B proves to be such an
amazing trial. The levels of functionality is truly what
keeps me going. The endurance Jehovah gives in my
time of exasperated capacity in tiny spaces.

            The capabilities to sigh long and low seem as
though a distant reality, an illusion. Such sweetness in
the thought of just a relaxing hour. No rattling. Still
the pressure is hard, weighted and to exercise the
soul is a laughable harshness.

           Winded is what some of varietal ages would call.
Still, though, I keep moving. Staying motivated until
no one can see then I collapse into a heap.

           Sometimes appearances are so hard to upkeep.
Often times the worn soul, the heavy lungs just say,
"ENOUGH!" To relax, recoup and live lively ~ soon.

           So here I am dressed. Wanting to go outside but
only experienced the wind from a brief walk to the
mailbox. The lungs exhausted by the building entryway.
Jehovah knew how much I enjoyed each precious step.
Perhaps why the sun was brightly embracing my face,
giving me the charge I needed for a smile to find rosy
lips down to surfing inside my spirit.

          Just one moment where I felt I could accomplish
anything. Then the realization of the stairs before me.
Such a draining feat.

          Such the hope for a better day come this
darkening light. I pray for sleep that is actually restful.
The strong hope of gentle kindness that extends from
this radiant afternoon well into tomorrow's. The
early, early vivid midnight sky to welcome a hello across
a dream.

        All is possible inside a hope, a prayer.

         So here I sit in hopes that the day fading into the
evening wasn't considered wasted because of my
inability to move far without raspy breaths. I pray to
accomplish much on the morning light.

        I hope to embrace the coolness, the ever sweet
kindness and feel radiant for tomorrow is a new
day.