Resurrecting

Last Saturday I died….

Last Saturday, I died

The fatal blow crept like a trickling, a lethal injection that hits the heart and I wailed and mourned through Sunday

My grief was proof that I once loved myself Once upon a time, I nursed cuts and bruises and hope and shadow plans

Even the vaguest plans can be derailed and it is a long wait sometimes for the next train

Sometimes it is all you can do To tidy up the station, forge a narrow path make a clearing where you can breathe once in a while

Sometimes even the clearest marquee Won't take you where the sign says

But you can ride.

Stick your face out the open window, inhale the breeze and debris and whatever it brings

If your lucky, you’ll be scarred with a mark that says you’ve been there, somewhere, anywhere

Resurrection doesn’t happen only once it occurs with every fall, the big and the small

Lift your head, crawl, stand, walk grab your pen

fly

for more on getting through the tough patches, try

Gretchen Lee Bourquin obtained a Bachelor’s Degree in Literature/Creative Writing in another life, and worked in disability care, customer service, and education administration — and as a single mom of two, now grown, kids- before delving into freelancing as a content writer. She’s enjoying the opportunity that Medium provides to get a little more personal and put the creativity back in her writing. Follow me on my Facebook Writing Page, Twitter, or WordPress