In the first breath 
	I inhale a cool 
		winter night 
			on a sweltering summer day 

Butterflies carry 
	burning thoughts away 

The second breath 
	fills me 
		with white light 
			like a quiet, soft avalanche 

Candles of darkness 
	extinguish 

The third breath 
	and the earth 
		embraces me 
			like a warm clay bath 

I am released 
	from fear’s quicksand 
	
Now ... refreshed 
	beaming with light 
		embraced by the earth 

I am but the child 
	of three breaths 

Richard L. Matta

grew up in New York’s rustic Hudson Valley, attended Notre Dame, practiced forensic science, and now lives in San Diego with his golden-doodle dog. Some of his work is found in Dewdrop, Gyroscope, Healing Muse, New Verse News, San Pedro River Review, and many journals of haiku, haibun, and tanka.