By David Roth
© 31 July 2004
A simple thing, really.
An autonomic reflex
It happens completely apart from conscious thought
And yet
If, and, or when it doesn’t happen
Life comes to a bitter and sudden end.
We seldom consider the things
That happen in our lives
From moment to moment
Almost without our participation
And yet
If, and, or when they don’t happen,
Our attention, however fleeting,
Is aroused.
I cannot any longer simply take it for granted
That I will continue as I have
Or perhaps the whole purpose was to grab my attention
So that I would no longer
Continue as I have
Today, I breathe.
As I did yesterday and all the days before them
But not without the sudden awareness
That the next breath;
The next beat of my heart;
The next synaptic impulse coursing the bridge
Between the hemispheres of my brain;
Is a fleeting wisp of mist at best.
Implied, but never promised.
Suggested, but not guaranteed.
Desired, but not unconditionally fulfilled.
To this end, I give thanks
Because today,
I breathe.
