I am close to my Higher Power but I have no words to describe It. I have found it best to say nothing unless asked. When I do speak, it is always about the path I took or the way I held my face. I know the things that changed, and the wind that blew. This is not the sketch most people seek. My skin is brown and my smile broad; this is not from over-exposure to beams of light. Closeness warms me. I glow from standing near. I know the face and form is different for every day; I must not stop for definitions.
Taste silence and smell the words.
The Acts of Hope
I cover my head when I pray
in hopes that God wants me sheltered.
I attend meetings to keep alive the hope
that sobriety is the end of isolation.
I talk to the people in my network
hoping I have something helpful to share.
I sit down to the blank page with hopes
that HP still chooses to collaborate with me.
I pick up my paintbrush filled with hope
that color is still my friend.
I inhale air along with hope that each breath
is worth the effort and I am worthy of this life.