First Breath, Last Breath

A beautiful, tender poem found in my beloved magazine The Sun. Oh how birth and death are so intimately connected, spiraling together in a grand and cyclical journey.


First Breath Last Breath



When a baby boy is born

and the midwife holds him up

as he takes

his first breath,

Place him over

the Mother’s face

so when the baby exhales

his first breath on Earth

the Mother breathes it.


And when the Mother dies,

her middle-aged son

the baby grew up to be –

by her side,

his head next to her head –


Follows her breathing with his breath

as it becomes shorter,

and as the dying Mother

exhales her last breath

her son inhales it.



[The photo above is of Kaia’s first moments in our realm. Knowing she is looking directly into my eyes, already connected to her Mama, melts my heart]



2 Comments Add yours

  1. New Mama says:

    What a beautiful poem — the poet lives in my city. 🙂 And what a wonderful photo of Kaia!

  2. I love that picture. I was touched deeply by that poem when I read it in The Sun. How I love that magazine.

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