Resuscitate Poem by Michael Garrett

The morning, immaculate and brilliant
pulls
me
from
my
slumber.
Receiving me with warm rays of sunshine passing benevolently through glass panes, igniting the room and chasing shadows into corners,
birds celebrating with melodic entices, a cool breeze importing perfumes of cut grass and sweet May flowers.

I absorb all that permeates and survey our room in silence,

You Inhale.
I
pause
entombed.
Your sleeping face restfully inhaling, the sound, warmth, fragrances.
Juddering, I wait.
Endlessly waiting for your exhale, which without,
the birds caroling would die away, sunlight would be eclipsed with no warmth offered, odors become offensive and foul.

My life, my breath, all I am,
sustained in you.
I bound by my love for you.
Held Still by your breath!
You Exhale.
A swoosh, all sounds, sights, smells, emotions rush by and surround me again.
Resurrected, Alive, I breathe.

You inhale.
I convulse and hold my breath.
Fix my eyes on your smooth loving face, peacefully resting.
Dreaming?
In Limbo I wait, surrounded by life, reverberating.
As all I am is entwined with you, resuscitated by your breath.
Knowing, if not them, most assuredly I, will cease when your breath does.
That my hopes, dreams, life is there in you, your soul, your breath.
You exhale.