Bee Breath

 

Bee Breath

 

Breathe in deep, then hum the sound of bees.                    

Maintain a steady drone until your lungs

are empty, then take another breath and hum

again. Now bring your hands up to your face

and gently press your thumbs into your ears.

Close your eyelids with your next two fingers

then rest your ring fingers against your nose

to slow your breath. With your sense gates closed

 

a thousand buzzing bees resound

inside your skull, down your spine

and through your pelvic floor. A thousand,

thousand sonic waves thrum your nerves,

cull your mind of thoughts that play, replay.

Release your fingers. Open all the gates.

 

  

John Whitney Steele

 

 John Whitney Steele, a psychologist, yoga teacher, and assistant editor of Think: A Journal of Poetry, Fiction and Essays, graduated from the MFA Poetry Program at Western Colorado University. His poetry has appeared most recently in Autumn Sky, Boulder Weekly, Buddhist Poetry Review, Blue Unicorn, The Colorado Sun, Copperfield Review, Eastern Forms, Ekphrastic Review, Lighten Up Online, The Light, The Lyric, Mountains Talking, Muse India, New Verse News, The Orchards, Road Not Taken, Urthona Journal of Buddhism, and Westward Quarterly.