whirling whirling

whirling, whirling
my body wears
down.
bone and skin
inevitably lost
in the metamorphosis.
in the end,
we are only Truth.

i look up,
but i am
only
my breath now,
pure spirit,
one with sky,
delusion comes
only with things
dependent on time.

we are the flames
on our candles
we are the prayers
we pray, not the bodies
we cling to.

until breathing
takes the path
of our souls
will we remember
what we forgot
we already know.