Twirling Past

       Cleared. I cannot allow myself to wallow in pity
or negativity over things I cannot control. Ha and that
is much, I comprehend.

        Pushing myself back up out of a cloud of self
inflicting pain. Why do I do that? Why cause pain to
myself?

        Alas the imperfections of us all. Climbing, climbing
until the feet dangle from high seated cushions. The
head raised to acknowledge there is nothing I can do to
change the past.

       Life is life. Past is just that, a past. The trips taken
to twirl back is selfish, do you agree friend? I am selfish
for stretching thin a piece of wool.

       So as the tears dry I have to press out of this
funk and get up. Not trying to dwell upon any one thing
that drives a stake through my spirit.

      So here I am standing. Motions, gestures are
still iffy. The best remedy is to just go. Just keep
onward, right?

       Even in the moments where the knots of pain
damage I still need to just pick up what remains
and go.

        So conversations will be, must be started by
you. I request it, please? For if I say something the
tremble may be heard. Not quite sure how to respond
to that.

        So here is a weak smile, alas though, it is gaining
strength. So gently I send a hope that words aren't
harsh and still the letters, the movements speak
louder than the eyes.

        For now mine descend from dark, stormy gray
to a fair cornflower blue. Just holding onto a hope
of radiance only a few really know.

        Do you know of it? Have you seen it?

                           Show me.