Reflections Of A Personal Trainwreck
Last in my poetic series, ‘Reflections’ is a short exposé and poem on personal tragedy and rebirth.
Years ago, tragedy befell an innocent like a string breaking on a puppeteer's handle. I am the puppet.
Uncertainty. Confusion. Fear. Wreckage.
The splintered mess, the carnage of my human soul, is the result. There is no undoing what is done.
But now? Where is my beacon of light in the stormy night? Where is my rock above the raging floods I can secure a foothold? Can I again be conceived through my mother’s womb? I am as helpless as an infant.
Rebirth is here, tapped from above, an innerspring of joy returns, a new sunrise bringing clarity through sleep-filled eyes.
I rub them awake and embrace a fresh day, the first of my future, and I retake my first steps. One at a time.
Reflections Of A Personal Trainwreck
I don’t know where the hell I am.
I mean, I know where I thought I was headed,
but somewhere along the line,
I jumped the tracks and crashed,
leaving me an unrecognizable heap of
twisted steel and splintered wood.
