Press On

I feel a second wind brewing inside me;

I hear the voice of my stronger self;

The wind is still a breeze, the voice but a whisper.

Am I regaining strength?

Am I turning a corner?

Is this the new beginning I have longed for?

I can see a future where my smile is real;

Without tears behind my eyes;

The future is still far away, my tears still sit on the precipice.

Is time an illusion or am I?

Are tears washing away the sorrow?

Can both be true at once?

Healing is a process that ebbs and flows;

Pain resides even when happiness thrives;

So I press on putting one foot in front of the other.

Is it dark in here, inside my head?

Is the glimmer of my old self still burning?

Or is this a new me that can hold both the light and dark?