Erosion
My life lies scattered across the miles of time like the wreckage of an airplane crashed form on
high to a remote mountainside
I question and judge so much of myself that no recourse can change that I am forever unsure of what,
who and why I am who I am
Each day begins in an inventory of me
A checklist that describes my status, my being
First I take a breath to see if life remains
Next is a toe wiggle right then left
A small twist to see how stiff I may be and to check if there is a small lurking headache waiting
to redirect me from moving out to moving no more
Then that first foot on the floor tells if I can again stand on my own
Each day
One after the next
Over and over and over
Not robotic, not systematic and not automatic
Just what I do one day to the next to rise and face the challenges in and out
To rise and face the challenges in and out
Each and every day
Until
Terence L. Brooks
07 Aug 2012
