Unarmed, unprepared, unprotected
I find myself anxious and alone
vulnerable in this world, forced
to rely on others to fund monies
for divorce, illness, room and board –
Dehumanizing, almost comical, yet
now the norm…it’s getting old.
I whisper, “this too shall pass.”
Days of comfort, peace of mind
seem fleeting, so I pray again –
Let me ride the storm out
especially when bright days
only leave me colorblind, lost
in vibrant hues, now turned heavy,
grey as my blurred view
misleads, guides me towards
quirky mirages of hallucinations past,
Eyes shut tight, I segue into fitful sleep
chronically chaotic dreams, nightmares
disrupt the REM when night does fall.
I whisper, “this too shall pass.”
Storms roll in fast and furious at night
This storm knows no season,
it hits when it wants to hit –
By day, skies settle, but
notice the ethereal debris left behind
a film, a protective coating made of
purposeful design – intended to fertilize,
revitalize life lost – mind, body and soul
battered, but not beaten – I’m still standing
resilient, prepared to ride out the storms.
I whisper, “this too shall pass.”
Reflection & Renewal 