Breath by Don Paterson

Breath

after Rilke 

Breath, you invisible poem -

pure exchange, sister to silence,

being and its counterbalance,

rhythm wherein I become,

ocean I accumulate

by stealth, by the same slow wave;

thriftiest of seas . . . Thief

of the whole cosmos! What estates

what vast spaces have already poured

through my lungs? The four winds

are like daughters to me.

So do you know me, air, that once sailed through me? 

You, that were once the leaf and rind 

of my every word?