Gift given,

duly received.

Piper paid

by the ways we say “yes,

thank you, more please.”

Gift given.

More than I receive.

We partake in the majesty

when we think in terms of “we.”

We are this gift given. 

Most notably esteemed

in the ways we open the portals and chasms

of this pulsing home,

this eternal tome

in which are written the secrets of true cognition.

This patter-patter nothing is the matter,

lub-dub everything is matter

everything matters

everything is a part of the pulse.

Rhythmic vibrations of life’s fluctuations,

given, received, as simple as I breathe.

In and out.

Expand, contract.

Life’s primordial law exemplified

in every rising wave and receding tide.

Gift given,

duly received.

When we give from our hearts,

we get all we need.

But not by trying to get

Nothing can be bought from life,

not even more time.

Especially if we believe it only moves in a line.

We are not for getting,

don’t let yourself forget,

this life is for giving

and thus, forgave.

Day in, day out,

from birth to grave.

Not a line, this living,

a pulse, a rhythm.

From the grandest star to the smallest cell,

breathing defines every particle.

Gift given,

duly received.

What if our gazes continually returned

to the emanation of the inquiry: “What can I give?”

How would we live 

if that question 

began each day, 

each moment, each exhalation?

And inhalations allow us to realize

every breath is a new beginning

of the same old thing.

We are offered every moment, 

this air, these bodies, this precious life.

Everything a gift.

Flowing out, flowing in,

to be given yet again.