Dog’s Breath Cure

More about Dog’s Breath Cure

Not by leaf nor by root was this cure revealed,
Not by fire nor furnace nor pestle ground fine.
It came at dusk when the earth loosened her jaw
And the dog exhaled the day back into the soil.

Listen—
The dog does not chant,
The dog does not fast,
The dog keeps no secrets
And therefore keeps them all.

Its breath passes through bone-memory,
Through marrow older than fever,
Through the wild grammar that walked
Before names were sharpened into knives.

When poison enters the house,
When swelling forgets its own border,
When the blood turns argumentative
And the nerves speak in sparks—

Do not run to the mountain.
Sit on the ground.

The dog will come on its own feet.

Its breath circles the wound
Not touching, not entering,
Teaching the illness how to leave
By remembering how it arrived.

This is not mercy.
This is accuracy.

The dog breath does not heal—
It corrects direction.

Siddhas say:
What the dog eats without thinking,
Man ruins by thinking too much.

Therefore the cure is light,
Therefore the cure is brief,
Therefore the cure smells of earth and sleep
And disappears once noticed.

Keep this quiet.
Not because it is powerful,
But because power spoils it.

The dog forgets immediately.
So must you.