yes, my torment has gone
and, more remarkable
i seem unharmed
the machine of flesh and blood
still stands the demons cast off
as naturally as a winter's overcoat
in spring
suffering has gone
much as a boarder
comes to stay for a while
then leaves
the vacant room
speaks In echoes
holding the occasion
in its emptiness
strange
but this momentous time
feels quite ordinary
there is no dialogue
no musical score
no cast save me
and if I could express
my feeling visually
it would be
to see a woman
walking on a moor
her face sun-kissed
her expression calm -
wild grasses parting
under her bare feet
the bruised flatness
showing her presence
the air suffused
with the scent
of opening clover
Her shadow falls behind
but she does not turn
to court uncertainty
instead she hugs herself
wrapped warmly
In a shawl of safety
with no memory of pain
she treads the landscape
of exhilharation
radiantly
There is no script, no sponsor here
no commericial enterprise
the actor gleans no fees -
a documentary in fact
Philippa Lane
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/simplificatiion-recovery-from-cyclic-depression/
