The Well

Note: So, last night my head hit the pillow and of course, verse began. I’d told myself that I needed to do a little visualization exercise and while I did so, a poem of sorts came out, so I need you to know that this is the visual of what went through my head before sleep overcame me. Don’t panic! It’s just an exercise. If you know me, of all things you should feel relief by the end of this.

The Well
I’m holding on
Barely clinging to roots that push their way through earthen walls
Grasping with every ounce of strength I have left in me
My arms are getting tired; my fingers, numb
It would be so easy to let myself fall
But I don’t like the darkness that shrouds me down there
It’s damp and it’s cold and I feel so alone
My arms grow weary; my fingers, weak
How did I climb out last time?
Ah, the hand of my Sanity
There are so many hands now
Reaching down to pull me up
But I keep pushing them away
Still trying to figure out how to do this on my own
I need to do this on my own, for once
I reach up to grab another root, but my hand slips and I am left dangling
One arm, keeping me from the depths of the Well

I can do this
I close my eyes and breathe
A sob attempts its escape, but I stop it
I am done with tears of sorrow
Strength is what I need
I swing myself forward to grasp the root again
To pull myself up
One arm stinging with life; the other without sensation
I pull up, adjust my footing and reach again
It’s still dark where I am, but I can see a sliver of light
Maybe hope 
Perhaps even dreams
My body is exhausted from holding on for so long
Just a little higher, and I can feel the sun kiss my hand
For once, it doesn’t burn
A little more… and I have reached the edge of the Well
I clutch the large root in front of me that covers the ground and pull myself free
My unfeeling fingers; my wearisome arms that held me in stasis
My aching body
Finally, my legs that held no purpose for me while I clung – no strength for me to stand
I kneel, and now that I am free, I look up
The sky is blue, and I am under a large tree whose branches sway in the gentle breeze
This time I don’t stop the tears as they fall, and I hug the tree with my worn-out arms; caressing its skin with my sore fingers
My head rests against the tree as it breathes new life into me…
And I smile, truly, for the first time in months
Because I am now free to start again
© 2009 N.L. Gervasio

2 thoughts on “The Well”

  1. I know how important it can be to feel that you are strong enough to do this on your own, but you don't have to be. Remember that we are all here for you. Don't worry, you will have plenty of opportunity to yank my ass out of the well.


Comments are closed.