Circulation

A Breath Cycle in Haiku

There are poems that arrive with a whisper.
This one came with a breath.

We don’t always realize we’re holding it—our breath—until we feel the tension, or the release. This cycle of inhale, hold, exhale, and begin again mirrors more than physiology. It’s the rhythm of seasons. Of grief. Of becoming. Of returning to ourselves.

This small collection of haiku emerged as I sat with the changing light and thought about how the body and the earth both circle through stillness and motion. Each stanza reflects a moment in the breath cycle, and each aligns with a season: summer’s fire, autumn’s hush, winter’s press, spring’s promise, and the eternal return.

The poem is not a strict meditation, nor a guide. It is a recognition.
Of how we resist.
Of how we release.
Of how air delivers us, again and again.

I offer it now, as a gentle reminder:
Whatever part of the breath you are in—it is enough.
You are in motion, even in the stillness.

May this cycle find you where you are,
and breathe with you forward.

Circulation: A Breath Cycle in Haiku

by JL Tooker

IN

it burns pulling in

through summer’s sweltering angst

upright. … resisting

HOLD

hold … fold like shadows

breath leaves stalled in windless hush

autumn never fails

HOLD

beneath snow’s silence

crocus pushes through the white

cold flees heavy lungs

OUT

gasp, hold on for spring

it flows like a honey joy

wait for it … slow drips

AGAIN

then breathe to begin

again the breath cycles air

… air delivers me