Where Darkness Met Light
A sestina
Powered by pain like waves pushed by the sea,
hard earned paper traded for nerves of steel.
Two bottles this time, instead of just one,
I fumble for fibs but the old man knew-
maybe the blood shot eyes were my give away;
still, I hurry on home to fill my holes.
My muddled mind wonders why I’m not whole,
swimming in sadness I struggle to see-
why I am too weak to carry the weight
of the anchor of shame drowning me still?
Potion now poison I need something new,
seems I’m waging a war that cannot be won.
She shared her struggles, ashamed not once,
substances she used to fill empty holes.
I trembled tears, for my story she knew-
emotional rain that could fill the sea.
She then spoke of who had made her storms still…
Was I willing to try another way?
This group gathers hoping to break away-
for freedom’s found together, not as one.
Sharing strength with others struggling still,
people in pieces together made whole,
plenty of perspective to help us see
our old lives fade as we welcome the new.
Shocking skeletons they already knew,
reserved resentments I now cast away.
Just like jetsam thrown out into the sea,
I’m told not to hold on to any one.
If relapse is water, waiting for holes-
recovery must be a ship of steel.
I seek forgiveness for I fall short still,
though sins I confess He already knew.
Only the Grace of god could fill these holes,
and I’ve been called to show others the way.
I stand here, proof this battle can be won.
Each addict’s S.O.S. He hears, He sees.
He can make you whole, there’s hope for you still;
in time, you will see how He’s made us new.
Why not try our way? Let’s start with Step One.
Recovery has been the greatest gift given to me. I am forever grateful to each person who played a part in helping me get there, we can’t do it alone.
