Shaking but not giving up

      I shake. Then the pen quivers. Yet
dare you to tell me, a writer and poet, to
cease the trail of letters combined
into sentences is wrath. Very much
like shaking of a scorpion filled thorny
shrub.

     A sigh escapes. The tears have died.
A pressing, creased smile holds for
seconds. Rhythm holds the lyrics
within my ears. Songs that build
strength. Those sweet melodies that
ensure me that I can keep going if I
trust in Jehovah.
 
    Indeed I do. The voice is dry. The
lungs are tightened by the courage
thrust upon me. I am okay, not fine.
Just okay. Building up my worth, my
mind to the lessons I am given.
Learning how to cope.

    Here the slow movement inside swollen
fingers, joints I am able to say, I live.
I survive. Yes I can keep going. I will
not give up, give in.

   Standing, straightened and tall
in defense to all that is attacking me.
Knowing I have the best support system.
I grow. I adapt.

   Here I only ask for love, for hope,
for dreams and for your support.
Help me build. Help me be all the best
I can be. Just the lifting of your words,
of your smile drags me closer and closer
to joy, to happiness.

   Not going to dump my joy, my hopes
into the trash. Oh no I hope to remain
positive even in the worst of moments.

    Please I beg of you.