Vapor - Paige Puckett

Each life is but a vapor breathed and dissipated
like fog from a child's breath on a cold glass window
as he awaits winter's snow, palms pressed to the pane.
A vapor that disappears in brief moments,
but pauses long enough to trace words with fingertips.
And what of the culmination of our lives?
Earth heaves one long sigh, a gentle moan
and we read words traced on eternity's cold window.
Let there be Life.

In the space between seven and eight,
He breathed into dirt and bones born from my body.
In the long moments waiting for him to breathe
were nothing but heartbeats and prayer.
Breathless, hand in hand, foreheads pressed together,
we cried out to the Author of eternity.
Life, Giver of life, please breathe life into him.
We exhaled a sigh of relief at his first gulp and cry.

I know nothing other than this present vapor of a life,
and it seems to me like an eternity is just too brief.
Timelessness it etched onto my soul
like an engraving on a pocket watch – you are Mine.
As the second hand moves around the face
I am changed, I am changed, I am changed…
A quick puff to the glass and I rub it on my pants' leg.
Has a year gone by?