Funny how life turns in circles.
How we come back around to the same lesson
The same story.
The same drama living inside us.
It happens without our knowing
While we sleep
The circle comes back around.
My life is a series of concentric circles
Flowing outward and into each other.
Yours is too, if you didn’t know.
I am bound to something
Something which breathes a life
Greater than the one I have known.
It is on the other side of this old cycle.
Remembering never to underestimate
The enemy within,
Nor the soul
Which knows its true North
No matter what.
Spinning round we go
Ever deeper into the meat of things
The real gist.
My depression lives
In that liminal space
Between Winter and Spring.
It is never very loud.
But when the frost is fading
And the bulbs are nipping at the soil,
That’s when it rears its head.
I lose faith.
I begin to give up
When it seems that my truth
Is a lie;
And each time I come back around.
Riding the circle.
Laughing at my forgetfulness.
Weeping at my struggle.
Though I falter,
Though writing becomes a chore,
If I live to see it die,
If my father does not see me
Become the being I am destined to be,
I will never forgive myself.
I could never forgive myself.
I’m sorry for forgetting.
So many times.
Again and again.
But I suppose that is the nature of life.
Always spinning in circles.
And sometimes it’s easy to get dizzy.