Quest to Breathe

This cadence of a last breath,
This moment to determine
From where one’s final rhythm emanates,
Mirrors childhood,
Adolescence,
Even that much dreaded final curtain of maturity.

Such will parade its swell and gasp,
A Rite of Spring paradox,
Ingested forever,

Becoming the intravenous surge of finality.

Will it have a peccary’s duplicity,
Able to flow with a flowery resonance,
Or the prickly shrill of cacti,
Knowing life is but a rabbit in the hat?

Will the baby breathe in suckling contentment,
Make silent intrusive memories of first-love betrayal,
Or
Might the crackling rock of roll
Make tamboured expansion of racing energy,
Produce a heave,
A final extolling of breath well spent?

Oh how tenuous the choosing,
This last moment,
This ultimate attempt…

To finally breathe.