The Breath That Remembers You

Notice how your breath moves through you tonight.

Does it arrive in shallow threads,

Barely touching the edges?

Or does it move freely,

Claiming its place without hesitation?

Is your chest drawing inward,

Tight across the heart?

Or does it lift your body,

Like a lantern held toward light?

Is the breath guarding itself,

Keeping watch,

Never fully resting?

Or is it softening,

Pliable as warm clay,

Waiting for gentle hands?

Your breath is not simply entering and leaving.

It is reading the room with you,

Carrying echoes of the days that shaped you,

Quiet memories held in the spaces between inhales.

It speaks now,

As you take this moment,

And like a voice learned in childhood,

Still living in the ribs,

Your breath mirrors the tone you have taught it over time.

Notice how you meet this breath,

Either opens or closes,

The doorway to your own clarity.

It is your decision,

Which rhythm you return to,

But one truth remains.

The breath is faithful,

Patient,

Waiting for the softness you offer it.