The Rescue

Did I rescue the turtle or did it rescue me?

I lay nonchalantly watching until woken from my stupor.
By what?

By the realisation that I had more meaningful purpose in life than lying in the sun making drawings?
By realising that if I didn't help the turtle escape death, perhaps no-one would?

If not me, then who?
If not now, then when?

It was my duty to rescue the other life.
From what?

From cessation of life?
It was my duty to preserve life.

In so doing, I changed lives.
The turtle's life was changed.
My life was changed. I now 'had' a turtle to protect, to nurture, to find a home for, to release.

Your life has changed. You now know about the turtle because you're reading these words.
These words tell you how the turtle changed my life and I changed the turtle's.

I am the turtle.
And the road.
And the cars whizzing by.

I am the sunlight burning my skin
I am my skin.

I am the page on which I write.
I am the pen with which I sketch.
The camera lens that peers and captures and stores.

I am the turtle.
And I am me.
And so are you.