Wednesday, August 22, 2012


As I was doing my internship at the halfway house, I thought regularly about this.  It seems to me all of us are in recovery from something.  We are all trying to find our way home again.  Hopefully we will be recognizable... when we get there.

We are all recovering
From something,
Slips and gaffes,
A long time wayward
Walk or slide.
All of us are recovering
From something.
We leave broken pieces
Along the way,
Gather in the bits and shards,
Figure which ones fit
Into our own personal recovery sculpture.
It will probably seem familiar
But still not
What it was before;
Maybe closer,
We hope closer,
We pray closer
To the original piece,
Kin to
The gleam in our Father*s eye.
The pulse of our Mother*s heart.
I*d recognize you anywhere
They*ll say
You have your father*s eyes.
You have the heart
Of your mother.

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