The Heartbeat’s Quiet Sibling

It begins before words,

before even thought;

this rhythm carved into us like tide,

like time.

Inhale;

the world enters,

Its weight, Its wonder, Its wounds.

Exhale;

the letting go of what doesn’t belong,

of what tried to stay too long.

Breath is not just survival

it is the first agreement between body and being.

A vow of “I will stay,”

even when the skies bruise,

even when the silence sharpens.

To breathe is to bear witness

to grief without drowning,

to the self as it softens and strengthens at once.

Breath is the pause between wars,

the heartbeat’s quiet sibling

Breath is the language we speak when there are no words left.