Filling the fissures with gold

I suspect I will learn to make friends with this odd seizure disorder, to pace things differently, even to learn to fill the cracks with gold.  Third time around it is no longer a fluke, even an every nine month fluke.  I know it will take time to come to terms with this, shake hands, fill the fissures in my brain with gold.

I am more ready now

To honor the fissures

In my brain.

I am not quite ready

To name them beautiful,

Fill them with gold.

Two weeks ago

I stood next to the strawberries

In the supermarket,

I knew I could not drive home.

Third time around I knew

Something more

Something sooner

I paid attention.

This next six months

As I walk

I will learn

Perhaps

To fill the fissures with gold.