Define Alive Poem by Nika McGuin

My fingertips are cold,
but my skin is warm to the touch.
The tresses falling at the nape of my neck
are warmed by my life's essence.
Meanwhile, my heart beats a steady rhythm
in tune, with the contracting and relaxing
of my two virile lungs.

Man, it feels so good to be alive,
to cherish the preciousness of it
without analyzing all the inner-workings
and functions - there's a blissfulness, a state of ecstasy
that arises when all about me falls silent
save the persistent beating of my heart
joined by my almost inaudible breathing
and I'm filled, with awe and gratitude