In Honor of A Wish: 7.29.17




A dying rash of poison ivy pulses on my wrist, 
taking it’s last breaths as I jog an old path, 
where once I had a wish.
A wish for new blood, 
despite scars of past rives
along my body.
I wanted again to face off with my experience that
I am alive.
And so it is, I acknowledge now,
that every so often,
the knowing of I Am In This
needs be revived,
by sweat on the ground
and a heart pumping fast.
I have cat scratched knuckles,
stone scraped knees,
snake bites,
and will approach bee hives,
I won’t be told not to walk by.
Let them sting me
should they decide.
I will survive.
I am the warrior of my life.
In honor of my wish: You have bled and will bleed again.
Thank God.
The Wish

Jogging down a hill 

in the storm 

I suddenly hoped to slip, 
hitting the ground hard and 
sliding down as I grasped 
for a nearby root, 
which would instead split 
open my hand 
causing a frantic 
smear of blood in the snow.
I would continue sliding to the bottom, 
gaining speed, where 
I would finally stop 
after slamming into the base 
of an old weathered tree, 
curled for a bit before I stood 
to examine the blood pooling in my palm, 
with nothing to protect the wound 
from the freezing air and ice swirling about me. 
There would be a moment of nothing 
but the sounds of the storm 
before I would take a deep breath 
and continue 
to run home, feeling like 
something of a warrior 
as my heart beat just a fraction harder – 
blood dripping in a trail of proof. 
I am home now and my hand is fine, but this was a possibility. And that excited me.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *