The Survivalist's Guide - Nov 26 2023

 

The Survivalist's Guide

Nov 26 2023

There's a strict order to things.

Breathing first,

then water, sleep, food.

From minutes to hours

and days to weeks.

We all know thirst.

But not how it feels

to drink your own pee,

still warm

and tinged with blood.

As we've all been sleep-deprived,

bleary-eyed

but oddly energized, as well.

And the deep narcotic sleep

that follows.

Appetite, of course, is far from starvation.

Although they say that in time

the hunger goes

cravings subside.

As if the body learns acceptance.

Not enlightenment

or Zen equanimity,

but at least sensible, under the circumstance;

a new homeostasis

based in reality.

Not so with breath.

When the lion goes for the neck

and throttles the throat

in its death grip jaws

there is no serene acceptance.

The eyes dilate

heart quickens

vessels constrict.

Then air hunger and fear

as vision tunnels,

perception dims,

hearing dulls;

the sound of blood

pounding in the ears

all that's heard.

A fierce struggle

that soon subsides.

I have no way of knowing,

but suspect

from the look in its eyes

a calm then settles,

the world of pain receding

in a warm endorphin rush

to ease the end.

How evolution would select for this

I have no idea;

the gazelle is dead,

there is no inheritance.

If you're a believer, I guess

it's the mercy of God;

after all, animals may not have souls

but they're still His creatures.

Or perhaps, not every gazelle dies;

the survivors

helped by the absence of pain

to slip the lion's grip

and live another day.

The world of eat or be eaten

has never heard of Maslow

or his hierarchy.

There are only basic needs;

survival

one breath at a time.

Did you notice your last

hearing this,

the last breath you took?

Of course not.

A thing you only notice

when it stops.