Groundhog days was written in 2000 at a time before I recognised the black dog for who he was, yet at this point I was being towed along more influenced by his direction than my own.
Oh to revel in this breath
and not ignore the pain
To go to sleep and not wake up
to live this day again
To laugh aloud so free – so free
from the belly of my soul
And spill the tears that dwell inside
before they rot, erode and mould;
To wear my face, asleep, awake –
whe’er joyed, mad, jealous, bored –
To smash to shards that cursed jar
that stands there by the door;
To place my feet upon the path
not doomed to circle back
After climbing hill and valley
to the same place, same damn track.
To walk the path with someone else
with feet beside my own.
To find the strength of someone’s gut
to bolster and press on;
To soar the heights on laughter’s wings,
to bathe in salt of tears
To be still in someone’s stillness,
to bring arms for someone’s fears;
To have somehow made some difference
in some small unimportant way
And to be made somewhat different
by the passing of a day.
livingwithablackdog 