June 18-22, 2017


I crawled out of my hole, slowly
it is hard, takes a very long time
things are reflected so weirdly

The Light so far away, I thought
it would never touch me and
I wasn't sure it wanted to and
I wasn't sure I wanted it to

Still I scrabbled up to it, because
the pain of Light is so much better than
this daily death of endless tears

The stinging slap of joy, though
bitter, still the good balm craved
by my beaten-down and broken spirit
so needing hope it cannot stand

Blessed Light, painful though it be
is infinitely to be desired over
the permanence of the night

And I grasp at these fragile gleams
clutch them closely to my life
that when darkness again will fall
breathing can go on