Sunday, November 15, 2015

How we cope

how we cope
we make shit
we look at what is in our hands
and how we can form it into a useful or a beautiful or 
a meaningful thing
a song or poem or a prayer
a loaf of bread
a shrine, or new curtains -
what ever it is - to shore up the bulkhead against destruction. 

sometimes we fail and
our efforts fall short 
and the sandbags we have placed in a wall to hold back the tide 
are overtaken  
and then we calculate our losses 
or maybe we have even lost our abacus 
or our compass 
and we pile the detritus up in pyres on the curb or 
or bury it
trying not to let the sorrow swallow us whole 
or hoping it will
and it becomes a part of our new creation. 

this is the thread that we are all seeking to bind us in hope
it is the thread of transformation

it is our only hope


Anonymous said...

always beautiful, perceptive, and most appreciated, positive. thank you for your thoughts and adding meaning to my life.

jude said...

i liked this

Anonymous said...

a great ode to coping

Morna Crites-Moore said...

Good poem. Got me thinking. I can assess my mental health by how much time I spend making vs. time spent in bed or sitting like a lump in the family room, which - let's be honest - ought to be called the tv room.

Chris Phillips said...

Hi I found your blog through cbdrawaday! Cool poem.