Breath

It’s humbling to dwell on the need

For taking in a mouthful of air

A dozen times a minute

Whether we want to or not,

Whether the air available blows in

From a mountain meadow or from a swamp.

Still, I’m proud of the deep breaths

That our featured speaker tonight is taking

While she waits to be introduced. Her voice

Mustn’t quaver as she exposes the lies

Told about our water and soil and air,

The claims they’re as clean as they’ve ever been.

Though she doesn’t believe her words

Will be wafted around the world

On an irresistible tide of spirit,

At least she believes that her audience

Will try to give them a fair hearing

If she can deliver them with authority.

When I think of what can be done

With a single breath, I think of the soloist

In the old recording I own, on seventy-eights,

Of Mozart’s oboe concerto, of his sudden

Intake of breath at a silent beat

To fill his lungs for a soaring passage.

I hope our speaker’s faith this evening

In the worth of her contribution

Is akin to the faith of the musician

As he sends his theme, finely phrased,

Out through the double reeds.

May it meet with good luck

On its unpredictable journey,

Riding farther than many suppose

A theme can ride on a puff of air.