Once, long time ago, I felt life,
life pulsating through my being.
I wanted each day.
Now I want night to be night and stay that way,
never to have to begin again.
I wish I could paint what I feel.
I would have layers of gray obscuring soft mornings
that gave promise of a day of hope,
slowly disappearing with only a hint of what was.
The contrast would be needed in order to torment
the beholder of what was and what now is not.
But morning comes.
One must go thru the motions of
beginning again.
But I don’t know why.
Only to feel the defeat again.
Depression settles over me like a mantle.
Thoughts descend
in varying shades of gray,
covering the essence of who I am.
I try to push through it,
to crawl around it,
but it enfolds like a blanket,
binding me.
The insidious attacks begin,
on my value, my worth,
my failures, my lack.
Only an act of will can remove it.
But the will has no arms, no legs
to do the mind’s biding.
It remains lifeless,
cold, withdrawn.
All is covered by the mantle.
O, God, I don’t want a covering
that snuffs out life,
that shrouds the mind, the body.
Breathe into me,
Life-giving Spirit,
create in me the breath of life,
a reason for being.
So I may move with energy
not with a body made of lead.
So I may think with purpose
not with a mind of straw.
So I may speak clearly with love
not with tongue thick and dead.
So I may feel deeply and fully,
not reflecting my emptiness.
Breathe into me, O Breath of Life,
throw off my mantle.
So I may color my world
removing the shades of gray.
©2002 Thrive
View the original print magazine where this article was first published.
