Staring and breathing
I know the sound and the feeling… it is important to keep my thoughts from racing
And going out of control. And so a cup of tea and a few minutes…
Sometime it is strange, the sound of my own breathing.
That in watching the dawn break on a fresh winter morning
I have forgotten a dentist appointment
And all the clutter of my mind… I’ve lost track of time again.
The energy I use to construct a face for the world
That is strong and reassuring- to distract people from the pain and emptiness.
To not ball up a fist, or collapse into the fetal position, or to act in any way out of the ordinary…
Because that is what I feel, even when I am thinking about good memories…
Wanes and fades and fails
And I am suddenly incapable of playing the part anymore
or controlling that frustration… or keeping that anger
or succumbing to the intense and overwhelming numbness
Like that blanket of gray overcast… a marine layer
no longer held sway by the strong winter winds
And I find my way through piles of oak leaves
picking my way through old dry newspapers
Kicking a pile of acorns across the walk and the grass growing through the cracks
The first task was to determine if God is good.
The second is to determine if life is worth living.
And everything else is simply how.
