THE ILLNESS
Destined to explore this road alone,
I will run until I stumble.
Then I will skip.
And when my body tires from skipping,
I will walk until I fall.
Then I will crawl.
Unable to crawl any longer,
I will reach out to that which,
seeing my need,
will lift and carry me
to my
final destination.
Then, only then,
will the body rest
while my mind dances
with new playmates.
Beth Good -- 1987
No comments:
Post a Comment