The Good Fight

A Poem

sufficient for the day is the trouble thereof

till gray day envelops when neither length nor strength sufficiently staunch the breeching flood.

a drowning gasp is heard from whence may vigor be restored?

where lies the font of power? the wellspring? the source? to survive the next and next… hour?

My heart— Other power must quicken That willing engine long deferred hope has sickened and bruise’d so.

It taps its rhythm but oh, so reluctantly slow.

Inhale… still inner strife

Become a tree —of Life— deep reserves rooted in tenacity by them you are growing… invisibly.

Then — when hope becomes sight so too, will your patience-grown and storm-blown height

have towered above your weedy fears— denying them light

Draws ever nigh that day when fruits shall be born of roots,

when all, shall be set right

and will have been worth the wearisome tho’ goodly fight.

This poem was prompted by Lucy Dan’s challenge about “Low Energy Days”. When my energy is low and my motivation is flagging I think of a tree.

Trees just show up. Day after day and year after year they weather the storms of life and eventually, they bear fruit, and provide shade and shelter.

So, trees are my go-to metaphor for low-energy days. I think of staying put, staying rooted, staying present, staying…