looking at the pain five years later

okay, so i'm cheating. i'm lifting from my writing from five years ago, when i was in so much pain and i felt hopeless and small. being in pain affects us all, being trapped is an undeniable hell. this is my second (millionth) chance in life.

i'd love to hear your thoughts. 

these days of being trapped, inside my trap
i see the crisp blue sky and i feel the warmth
swirled on the tails of the cool autumnal breeze
when i open and shut the windows.
the dog's bark carries on longer than the summer's song.
i want to be out and busy.
i want to be not in here, debating my pain scale.
and the torment of sitting still, brings no pain at all.
and the surges of energy brings discomfort in my own skin.
i feel the faker because doing nothing at all, and i'm fine,
do anything, and i'm fighting the burn radiating from within
my own blanking spine. it betrays me. and i hate it.
and i cringe to see my writing about it.
i'm sick of thinking about it, feeling it, hearing about it.
sick of people asking about it, sick of treating it.
sick of it all. so i try to ignore it and do absolutely nothing.
nothing at all.

may the wind take your troubles away

As I sit in the full morning sun, I look at the woodpile with questions fit for a lifetime. I wonder why my soul wants to wander. A butterfly brushes past me and I know life is wonderful.

Birds squawk all around me and the cicadas sing of the dew drying. My dog sniffs what has happened in the night. I am torn and worn, tired of this dance. I am saddened that my contentment is fleeing when I am obliged to pick up my day. 

Let my heavy heart of things I've not done be like wind, rising to You. I am grateful, remind me of this. I am all of this nature, remind of this. I am where I need to be, forever finding You when I least expect it. Burn these burdens like this woodpile.