Thursday, February 18, 2010

The Way Out

Depression is a stern taskmistress.

She stands over her peon, whip held high.

One lash falls:

You will never be good enough.

Another lash:

There is no way out.

A third lash:

No room for hope.

Yet another lash:

Things will never change.

Again and again the strap falls, worn and bloodstained while echoes reverberate in an empty skull, over and over and over and over.

Eyes to the dust, eyes forever to the burning dust.  Is it not pointless to raise one's weary head?

No.  For when the Sun appears and says "Enough", the Shadow is burned away in sweet Light. 

Dust thins and becomes shimmering beauty.

A worn, strong hand appears.

Firm.  Reaching.  Kind.

Unsteadiness grasps Strength, embracing--

It is hope. It is enough.

This is peace.


Debbie said...

Wow Rebecca. This is incredible. Somehow you captured the despair and the hope.

Kimberly said...

Beautiful. Truly. It resonates because I have lived it.

Plus I love the use of the word peon. Delicious word use, that.

L.T. Elliot said...

And this is beautiful, Rebecca. This is something that reaches me deeply. The message in here...thank you for it.

Helmbunch said...

Absolutely Beautiful. Just like you.