April Showers

Descending thoughts
Showers of regret and remorse
Assault my thoughts
Sullen moods cloud my feelings

Dampness invades
Soaked memories and dreams
Weigh upon my joy
Fridgid anger crashes my spirit

-Theo

Would that the seasons of being might be more gentle upon me. Doesn't the warmth of spring promise more than cold rain and gentle breezes? Now must be my time to stand alone in the rain. It is my rain after all. The wind-fall of my deeds, my memories, my failures. Funny, nothing observable in my life has changed. My children seem to thrive, my job is good work, my marriage still stands firm...enough. Yet, so much seems to have shifted within me.

Perhaps it is time again to turn energy to the ever continuing process of recovery. I am, after all, a recovering addict, and although by all measure of things, the years have brought me to a place of being an acceptable, responsible and productive member of society, I remain within an addict. I have been attending meeting a bit more frequently recently. It is a start.

The rains continue.