Here and Now

This recovery is long 

I feel like I haven’t 

moved from this bedroom

in a decade or two 

Grasping the doorknob with

White knuckled intentions,

personal sabotage 

planned before my curfew

 

Impatient for the day 

my feet agree  to run,

we risk scaling the walls 

just to see and feel sun.

I soak in this dream held 

securely like sleeping

in a warm bath but wake

choking – wishing the water won.

 

For I am the mason

building these walls sky high

And the prisoner trapped

terrified to climb again,

and bravery is scarce

in this bedroom of mine

when my demons play and

whisper to come find them.

 

But today I looked down

to see the grave I dug

with my bare hands to find

that I have been planted. 

I see tall roots below 

the hem of my night shirt,

and have been lifted to 

heights taken for granted.

 

I recalculate course 

finding hope in upward

direction – I stretch my 

branches to reach the sky,

I will count the inches

maintain the weeds and sing 

with the sparrows after 

I try, I fail and cry.

 

This recovery is long 

and I feel forever

is the time it will take 

this tiny oak to grow.

but faith is not lost – don’t 

need God to fix my soul.

with my new found stature 

I see the stars and they 

tell all I need to know – 

                                     here and now is where I grow.