For those who find themselves on a journey that, sometimes doesn’t feel like their own, going ’round and ’round and ’round…




The horse on the pole
that goes up and down
Or the one that stands still
but goes ’round and ’round

3 up and 3 down
Or walking 18
As you drive, then pitch
then putt from the green

Homework then dinner
And shower then bed
Check on him when I wake up
And kiss his head

The father, the son
THEN the Holy Spirit
I beg for an answer
Then struggle to hear it

It’s green and fast
Then it slows for yellow
And you pause for a red
To make way for your fellow

Steam the milk, Pull espresso
Pour and call a name
Doesn’t matter the drink
The pattern’s the same

I work and grieve
cry out for release
I breathe a few weeks
then here comes the BEAST

It’s bearable then down
with no seeming reason
My own damn thoughts
committing the treason

This trauma, this cycle
Rips me apart,
The images, the fear
The ache in my heart

A washing machine full
I’m on permanent press
Scrubbing and spinning
And trying my best
to get rid on the ick
to get rid of the pain
Praying the struggle
Isn’t in vain

Wanting to hope
But feeling the fear
A new beginning perhaps
Or the end is near

I’ve been here before
this too shall pass
But I’m tired of the cycle
I want joy to last

Consistency I crave
Creativity balks
Dreams dance
Memories stalk

Familiar with fight
and trying my best
It seems but a fantasy
defenses could rest

Longing to be held
wanting to hold
this woman, this teen
this child growing old


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