100 Breaths

100. 99. 98. You’re breathing deeply, eyes shut.

In and out. More and more slowly,

feeling the air inflate your lungs with each breath.

 

95. With each long exhale, you sink deeper.

Did I study enough for my exam you begin to ask.

Let that thought go.

Get back to your breaths, each an emblem of this moment.

 

90. Your scattered mind, being assaulted by the day ahead

finally begins to slow.

 

80. Like waves coming and going,

The past is lost, and the future remains unknown.

 

72. A car honks. Move on.

 

68. Focus. Return to your center,

let the world blow past you like a warm breeze.

Feel your surroundings getting darker and darker.

With each repetition, the numbers start to get lost.

 

47. You think, but you aren’t sure.

 

No need to count anymore, it just clouds your mind.

 

You briefly wonder how long it has been, but it doesn’t matter.

 

Sounds and worries seldom get all the way to your tranquil mind.

 

Time passes.

 

In.

 

Out.

***

(Minneapolis, MN -- February, 2016)

I wrote this poem for a poetry class I took pass/fail in college (I passed!). The assignment was to write a poem in the second person perspective. I took inspiration from a breathing exercise I did most mornings before class. At first, I didn't really like this poem because there's nothing flashy about it, but I've come to enjoy its simplicity.