Pause For Poetry:
Michael Hawkes /23

Airs and Graces

A poem by Michael Hawkes

We leave windows wide open

to let in the air,

the air that connects us

to folks everywhere,

that wraps the whole planet

in one atmosphere;

without which we’d stifle and sink in despair.


Air breathed by the Buddha

disperses in prayer,

though its molecules mix

in the wind through our hair

and nourishes those

who know that they share

the air they consume

with folks everywhere.

So breathe of it deeply,

there’s plenty to spare,

and may every gasp help

you’re becoming aware

that the gas you have gulped,

as though you should care,

has been through the lungs of somebody somewhere.

27/02/21 – Hawkes

Feature image: Jeremy Bishop on UnsplashBouton S'inscrire à l'infolettre –

Read other poetry, essays and short stories

Michael Hawkes -

Michael Hawkes is an 80-year-old survivor of all the world’s wars. He learned (and loved to rhyme) by torturing the hymns he had to sing at school. A retired West Coast fisherman living in Montreal since 2013, he is an unschooled Grandpa Moses writing an average of five poems every week.

New Clearly Customers get 20% off your first order of contacts! Shop with code: NEWT8M3R

There are no comments

Add yours