My Span, Her Breath
The Earth breathes all her beings,
all her beings coming
all her beings going.
She gives life,
She receives it back.
The Earth breathes all her beings.
breathing us alive, breathing us leaving.
At the start of morning meditation
I used to silently say,
while exhaling slow and long,
I’m practicing my final breath.
Until I noticed the locus of the I,
which now I’ve changed
to be a larger self beyond the body.
I lay my body gently down
feels like a truer practice,
feels like a mothering comfort.
I rehearse the moment of passage
in order to bypass the stage fright,
so I can revel in the commencement.
I am breathed alive,
my span, a breath of Earth.
When she breathes me out
and lets me go, I will go glad
to have been her breath.
Glad to lay my body gently down
back into hers once more.
©Susa Silvermarie 2026
Susa, this is a particularly important poem for me today as I have lost my voice from intense coughing which has been going on for a week). I have been thinking a lot about my final breath, believe me, these nights I can’t sleep. And the idea of “rehearsing” the last breath is pretty amazing. I’ve printed out the poem to keep it a little closer to my bedside, where I want to incorporate it into my meditation study. ( I listen to the Calm app, and a teacher whose name is Jeff Warren).
Thank you, I am in awe of you.
Bypass the stage fright. I like that…