Nothing Further

by Albert Glover

Hearing “breath” as “spirit”
as in Batch’s hymn
“Breathe on Me, Breath of God”

long after reading Olson’s “Projective Verse Essay”
and later John Coltrane’s 1957 statement
about his “spiritual awakening”

(more than twenty years after
Bill W’s: “I felt lifted up, as though
the great clean wind of a mountain top

blew through and through” which itself
echoes Lawrence: “Not I, not I, but the wind
that blows through me!”)

provided plenty of precedent
for anyone, as I was that Spring,
alone, down, and out

on the front lawn of my
No. Count. home waiting for
something to blow me away,

like the breeze which eventually did come
to release me from
much of what I owned.

And then all through the 90s
after my initiation into what
I’d only read about or

“understood” in some mental manner,
the idea of it became embodied
and autonomic as my heart beating.

The Source was present outside of me
until recently, at the Appleton golf course
in retirement sitting on a bench

under red pine boughs and allowing
the familiar air to reach me,
I felt the warmth of sun

absolutely equivalent in primacy
to breath and breeze
as I had come to know them.

Instantly the Source was inside also,
the same Source which I’d known
out there was equally

in here    complete
and wholly
singular.