Yellow moon peeps at me
Behind the shadows of the night.
Rises slow among the leaves,
Spreading eerie yellow light.
The oval face stares back at mine,
Screams silently, “ Go, leave! ”
I need to go, to go somewhere,
Somewhere I can breathe.
I wonder if that Breathing Place,
Is somewhere I can go.
Is it for those who wander there?
As well as those who know?
I think this Breathing Place must be,
A field of yellow grass.
An opaque sky, reaches out,
And steals from me, my past.
Or could it be a mossy rock,
By crystal mountain stream.
Trailing bare toes in the clear blue,
Where I seem a natural queen.
This rest, this rest, this peace, this bliss,
Is found in the Breathing Place.
But where is it? Is there room for me?
In that Breathing Place?
As the yellow moon finally,
Tops the trees,
I give a wishful sigh,
And it melts with the breeze.
I turn around,
Only to face my life,
In the house,
Those big bright lights.
And so continues,
My normal life,
Without a Breathing Place.