By John W
The knack of re-acting, again and again
I had this down pat, I was a pro with no equal or so I mused
Often did I indulge in this reality
It had become a soft, comforting hand
Affirming that all was right with the world
That all was right with my place in it
I had merely to re-act, yesterday or last week or five minutes ago
Knowing without a doubt: this time things would be different
This time would not be like the last disaster
This time that perfect, wonderful result would attend my actions
Reactability I finally discovered, much to my shock,
But of no surprise to those around me, was insanity!
As sure as playing Russian Roulette with a fully loaded gun
Expecting when the trigger was pulled, I would not blow my head off.
As the days had begun to pass
The first suggestion became more of my marrow
With each passing day, the second seemed more in focus
Not some wild passing thought or artful fancy
This thought, this Belief, was becoming a part of me
It was becoming vital to me, like air or water to life
Each day “without”, seemed to charge this Belief even more
No longer was I sentenced to a life of loneliness, uselessness
Somehow, somewhere, sometime after the days without began
I, the skeptic, the doubter, the different one, had come to believe
I don’t know how this happened, I cannot explain it
But no longer was I alone, no longer without purpose
This Belief, like the dawning of a sunny day
Was blossoming in my being, infusing into my every cell
Would that I could better describe it to my peers
Yet it mattered not to them what “It” was, only that It was
Commune with this Spirit freely, often, they advised
My bane with spirits before, was now my daily reprieve
“Make It your very own” they responded, when I asked
For details, wanted specifics, afraid of what I could be told.
In the high noon of this Belief do I now dwell
Always a reminder that It is truly greater than I!
With each new sunrise of my day in this Belief
I know my Reactability is gone, my sanity restored.