Crawling through the tidings of an ill omen, I scry a better landscape

Haunted by trials of my own imagination

I plod hither and thither

Seeking a glimmering light within the cages of my soul

I divine a trembling glow far off

Or rather nearer and clearer than before

I swear off chemical resolutions

But don’t doubt that I will stumble again

“I don’t regret the poison that set me free”

But that poison only lasts so long

I will have to crawl through the narrow keyhole of my own sober volition

Volition is a barren commodity as of late

But by the might of a forgotten limb of my mind, I will reanimate that which was once lost

An inherent and willful cry of a life well lived

A needle lost in a stack of paperwork

I will live yet again

Under the sky of an earth I do not understand

And as St. Francis once said:

"I will seek to understand rather than to be understood"

I will put others before me

Or rather, I will seek to be of value rather than successful

Not discounting creative pursuits

But instead illuminating my path with community in mind

Not some solitary nose dive into a selfish cavern made up by the imagination of an ill tempered infant

I am that infant

I have grown now

It is time to look up and not down

To spread my arms left and right

I do not know how many chances I have left

As I stand at the edge of a plight with a dense malady

Seeking health, human available