Inspiration

Inspiration, the first taste of our external world,
that drawing-in of breath that kick-starts

our lungs and gets us yelling right off,
it comes from the most mundane and sublime:
light sifting through the mini-blinds,

smooth black skin beneath white hands,

ninjas….

We breathe it in, if we can, while we can,
intentionally, absentmindedly, rapidly, deeply.
Mostly unaware, we are secure enough to sleep without

fear that we will forget and stop dead once unconscious.
We endure coughing and choking and wheezing,
and keep sucking it in as long as we live. 

Your creative acts of persistence have become my resuscitation,
the two rescue breaths preceding 15 hearty chest compressions
oxygenating my blood, until the ambulance is on the way with that
electric heart paddle thingy that will actually get me alive again.
Your stranger's lips locking a seal over mine turning blue, whispering

'Come on, come on, breathe damn you!' when only I can hear. 

You have inspired me, and look, I'm writing.

Andrine de la Rocha

posted 9/1/2010