Looking Into the Currents

Back aching,Gut bloating,
Eyes burning,
The need for sleep surpassing all desire
and most needs.
A need for breath, deep enough for oxygen,
Not the panting breath
that only limits.
Ordinary chores ease.
Fold clothes,
Run errands,
Plan lunch with a friend,
Make a nice dinner,
but it all arrives again with the cook,
burns dinner,
brings tears.
From home to chaos
In nine easy weeks.
Does praying even work?
Is there a layer of hell
In which there is no room
For one soul,
In which someone else's soul
gets to fill the room?
Is this a test of suffering?
Most surely a failed one.

If, in dreams, a house is a soul,
This one is full of strangers,
Hangs on a cliff,
The Abyss,
Stands upon a precipice,
Looking into the deep,
Deception Pass
-Don't fall-
Where the river's current
Runs one way,
the tide runs the other,
deceptionally beautiful, but
Don't get caught in an eddie.
It'll suck you down.
It'll suck you right down.

Does it help to pray?
Make the abyss go away?
Suffering remains.
Wounds still bleed.
What is the point?
To breath in and out
More deeply?
To ask for help,
first silently
and then out loud?
To measure time with words,
To suffer, yet
Open the door a crack and let someone,
anyone in.

Thank you for listening, jules