The Long Breath

A quiet place where memory and feeling learn to exhale.

For most of my life, I learned to breathe through effort.
 Through discipline.
 Through silence.

But there came a point when breath stopped being something to conquer…
 and became something to listen to.

The Long Breath is where that listening lives.

These poems are not written from the man in motion, but from the man who remains when everything finally grows still. They rise from quiet mornings, late reflections, half-remembered moments, and emotions that once had no safe place to land.

Some speak of love.
 Some speak of absence.
 Some carry the echo of someone who never knew how deeply they were felt.

This is not a place for speed or achievement.
 It is a place for truth — uncluttered and unguarded.

Here, breath becomes memory.
 Memory becomes understanding.
 And understanding becomes healing, even when longing remains.

These words live in the space between what was…
 and what almost was.

This is The Long Breath.