Today tears were shed
The rain on my window, my landscape
Slow and hindered progress they say
No suprise there
Finally somebody notices
My injury still there, lurking
In my staggered walk I try
But it’s not enough, it’s not enough for them
Not enough for me.
The weakness and imbalance in my muscle
Causing all of the problems, keeps me stuck
Could it be the same in my life pattern
Imbalance and weakness keeping me back?
In a holding pattern I slump down
To be smaller than I know I am.
It seems to be the only way, often.
I feel like I am pretending.
I am good at pretending.
In a car, in the rain, I uncoil.

The pretense fades and it’s just me.
All of the discouraging news finally reaches
And my half glass full heart despairs.
I don’t even turn the wipers on.
I just let it pour. For a moment, I just feel.
As long as one day I see light
I can be patient. As long as this is temporary
I can keep going. I can keep missing my favorite things.
I can keep limping up the stairs.
As long as one day, I’ll be strong again.
Or is this strength, in itself.
Is weakness, and continuing in the weakness
Is that the essence of strength?
And in fact, you can’t get stronger unless you become weak
The work it takes, actually makes you strong.
Half glass full, here it comes again.
Turn the windshield wipers on and
Back on the road I go, in the direction of
keeping on.
With each mundane action,
pretense drapes over me like a thick cloak.