Still Breathing

waking up in the middle of the night
to find that I am still breathing …
and grateful for the wordless breath
which rises and falls
beneath the crisp white cotton sheet

I pull the air in,
air still muggy and warm from thunderstorms
earlier in the day
and hold it,
hot in my mouth,
just for a moment,
savoring it

trying to remember when it was, exactly,
that I learned to breathe

exhaling quietly,
quickly pulling another breath in
lest I forget how

I remember how the baby hippo is born,
underwater,
and how, unerringly, he swims up and up,
with determination
without fear
simply knowing this is what he needs to do, until
suddenly breaking the surface
he fills his nascent lungs with air

and it dawns on me that this,
our original gasp of air,
is surely the first miracle






© Melanie Turner
August 3, 2009