Perspective

I really wanted to live. 
To carry on existing in the then brutal reality became too much to bear,
alone. 
To hope for anything different, matched,
by the futility of the moment by moment trudge to exist. 
The eon of each day passed by holding me captive to be,

without being. 
No dance in the trudge, 

no glimmer in the dark, 

no escape from the cage. 
My me that could not be.
Even the idea of me could not be. 
She had taken a brutal punishment, 

so young.
Trying to push the door ajar, she reached, 

to find a thread to pull on. 
What little she could tug on, unravelled,
a small pile of broken, fray ended limpnesses. 
What zeal she once had, long gone, 
what shreds of hope she had once held, 
broken,

lay where the light had long departed. 
What little she had left was held for but one task.

Today I woke again. 
I greeted the day as a familiar friend, 

reacquainted once again. 
Another chance granted me to be. 
With grateful heart I thank the universe,

it’s precious gift bestowed upon me. 

Today, listening to the breath of the wind,

Watching the pretty art the rain makes upon the window pane,

The clouds race by on their morning run,
the tree tops wave their greeting, 
their choreography perfected. 

Each ones presence in my life, a gift.
I am so truly, deeply, thankful for you all.