thoughts tumbling and roiling inside my head
unsure where they come from or how long they intend to stay
Jimi Hendrix said, "Manic depression, it's a frustrating mess."
frustrating when the day is so wonderful--when life is so blessed--
and believing and knowing that i am response-able, that i have the ability to choose...
not liking the down-swings; knowing they are finite does not help.
hearing the incredible sounds of my beautiful children and knowing they are a part of me and i of them; knowing that love is intangible but still real.
hearing the sounds of one who loves me, who, in the words of Ingrid Michaelson takes me as i am
recounting again and again the people whom i love and who love me in return, even when i don't feel i deserve it; the things i have for which i am grateful.
i am on a path to the pinnacle and can see but a few steps in front of me at a time
and i keep walking because i do not wish to give in to fear
if i could only know the final destination
but, then, my eyes fixed on the end, i
would miss all that is around me
the words are in my head
are you listening
but, then, my eyes fixed on the end, i
would miss all that is around me
the words are in my head
are you listening
No comments:
Post a Comment