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