To wake,
to ponder,
to fall asleep
to the tidal rhythm of ones thoughts;
at sea in ones own mind.
There is no cessation,
no reprieve,
one only endures
as though bracing for a storm.

Even this cup that I drink from,
holds too many memories.
It all comes back,
I am there again,
adrift in the past.

The bitter taste of morning brew
delights my weary heart;
it sparks in me the rising sun.
Coffee, we cannot part!

Water flowing gently
from a small stream uphill,
living from moment to moment,
so, too, seems the passage of time.
But listen to an old song,
read a forgotten book,
trace over an old wound,
see how the years tug at the corners
of a face you had once loved,
then time seems as a torrent,
like cascading white waters
rushing toward nothing in particular,
relentless in its passing;
we are here for only a moment.
Where are they now?
I wonder.

The stream flows gently.
I walk quietly uphill
towards the setting sun.

My heart is not here.
It is elsewhere.
I only tend to this cage,
awaiting its return.

I wake at night
and, peering into the dark,
stare longingly at shadows.
Here the world is still,
and yet within me
a torrent.

I live my life,
but something is clasping at my throat.
Forceful, eager,
it is there right now.
I try to keep it down,
I bite my tongue and drown it
with the usual poisons,
but this only urges it.
It fights me;
I only contain it.
Each bout spurs renewed vigour.

It is there at my throat,
waiting for me to scream.

I cannot write.

I put aside the pen,
I turn off the light.
I step outside
into the falling dusk,
lowering my head
as if to console myself,
whispering tenderly,
'this is only temporary.'

It has been years,
I still cannot write.

I am stuck in limbo
awaiting tragedy,
as a leaf awaits a gust
to tear it free from its branch.

I am shrouded in stillness;
a blissful peace.
I will look back on these days and think
"I did not know what I had"

Not far from now,
life will twist into a cascade
of irreversible losses.
I can feel it stirring,
an everlasting sorrow,
like the wind kicking leaves at my feet.

I will change forever.

Few things in life
feel as divine as
forgiveness.

To be told
that I am worthy
of a new start,
feels miraculous.

For all my mistakes,
I am not without hope.