An Ordinary Recovery
There are those long nights
when you feel for sure
you might decease,
only to wake to forget it,
the slayer, the fever-sweat,
the pain, the lonely shadows,
dancing around your moaning.
Then there are those few days following
when you know for sure you will increase
only by remembrance,
the soft footfall and embraces,
the misty rains and snows, the friends,
Singing, calling . . .
There are also those ridiculous moments
when you had forgotten the flashlights
up on the mountain trail,
and the sun had set,
only to crawl your way to camp.
Then there are those other days
of thunderous storms
when you expect all things to shatter,
the roof, the walls, the floors, and doors,
the fiber of your soul,
when uninvited, joy enters the house.
There are especially the enigmatic times
when loss appears to outrun gain,
and grief unmasks you,
the child gone, the parent mourning,
straining, contending for the one key
that is faith,
especially when faltering
towards the kingdom.