his last breath

his last breath 
took no more than a moment,
when his lungs blew a silent cry into the air

the breath held his soul 
as it glided along the face of his mother:
a portrait of suffering, over the body of her child

it swept through the beard
of his broken father,
mingling with the tears he didn’t know had fallen

the soul swam through the thin air
around two brothers,
and they sucked in
a tightness which strangled their hearts,
gripping tightly for an eternity

it left the dusty street of a no longer town,
joining the souls of the others
who left their bones behind.

it travelled across the breeze,
over no longer cities,
over no longer fields,
over no longer trees.

it merged with the soul of a people,
gathering in skies
which once held no fear

and in a sigh, the souls blew away
a shadow of a restless dream,
a gust of memory across the world 

this soul travelled far
along cloud and rain and sea
until the soul came down and fell unto me

and it glided down the face of this mother,
into the lungs of another
child

where He became We became Me became Her

for the breath of a babe is the soul of this world