In 1985, at the end of a long day, I wrote this poem as that long day settled into dusk.

I had been searching for calm and balance my whole life, and in the hours before me, I prayed and searched for balance. Something to remain upright and steady within me, where the elements are equal or in the correct proportions. A oneness. A harmony. A truth I could lean on, its stillness to quiet my hurt, to take away my emotional pain. I wanted to make peace with my anguish. I wanted to understand balance that cannot be forced.

The red rainfall keeps pouring, pounding down upon me. Yet, I keep my mind ajar. Patience. Looking for the light. Why? I ask with an open heart. Because I know I’m not on the other side yet.

I keep mindful, exploring, with a mindful attention. It hurts though. It hurts to be still and quiet and face all my unhealthy behaviors. But maybe, just maybe, I can do it a little at a time. Maybe I can do it gradually and piecemeal. Maybe I can breathe through it with a consciousness or an awareness while looking and moving forward toward the answer. Together, with the light. With a balance clearly from the divine.

Tonight, maybe I can dig deeper to accept more and let go of my haunting issues about the way my body responds to the foods I eat and its allergies.

I give myself the permission to heal with love and care.

Showers

In the hours before me,
I see no balance.
No sense of oneness.
No acceptance.
No stillness.

I see only extremes
In the afternoon’s
Crimson showers

They encompass my every thought
Its cerise rainfall fails to bring bright
Light even when I look that way
I keep looking for that lit sky,
Which others often find!

But I,
I keep searching and waiting
For that one special day
When balance will become mine!