The Flock

January 4

THE FLOCK

Today I came to a place in the road covered with birds.  The nearby fields, covered in birds, the trees covered.  As I approached, the birds took wing.  The flock responded to my presence; each bird flew, the sky darkened with their flight; wave upon wave, boundaries intact, taking action in the face of obstacle.  The gift of instinct displayed for me as I fly to my meeting, my instinct rehab.  I am learning my intuition; my sponsor spoons it to me from the steps.  I suck it down never knowing what it is about this process that makes me better, anymore then I know how grain and bugs make birds fly.  I have theories, things I roll in my fingers when I’m nervous.  I get glimmers, things my Higher Power sparkles in my eyes for a treat.  In truth, I don’t know ‘how’ I don’t need to know, any more than birds need to know lift to weight ratios.

When I respond to life events, when I spend less time self-concerned, I am so much closer to self. 

“Aren’t we spiritually centered?” quips my sponsor. 

“Yes,” I reply. “One day in a row, I’m going for the record.”

“That’s all the birds have; you’re doing as well as they,” she smiles and pats my back.

Say hello the next time a bee seeks you out

*

One Singular Crowd

Isolation among the isolators

is replete with metaphor and theme.

Expectation blithers loudly

but is drown by the palpable inevitability of the outcome.

I pirouette in a room filled with dancers

but we do not touch,

we just spin near one another full view but little contact.

Yet I hear my heart beating in my ear

and know that I am alive.

The flush of neighboring cheeks

attests to duplicate conditions there.

We are moving together sometimes in harmony

but other times in antipathy, dependent all the same.

We are the army of independent meanings.

Individual cases sharing one slender goal

but that’s all that we need.

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Abraxas

 June 10

Abraxas

I was waiting for a magic person and then you appeared.  I was dazzled; I was under your spell.  In an attempt to prove myself,  your natural assistant, I sawed me in two.  Then I stepped into the vanishing cabinet and promptly disappeared.  I was not wrong to see the miraculous in you, but I never looked from your visage once you arrived.  The world around me melted at your entrance and I flowed down the drain along with it.  I somehow expected a response from you, but why respond to an empty room?  So, I will plug back into myself and power up.  Power draws power and I will see if I can draw you once again.

Keep a truce on hand for later use

*

THE LANDING

Risers and runners lift from where I stand

Here I make my decision

I climb and face the challenges of my life

Each new test returns me to this square

The steps ascend in every direction

No matter how many times I have scaled this set of twelve

I must start anew with even the slightest change of direction

Like facets on a diamonds base

The flights emerge from the tiny base

And hold the world of possibilities

Within their meticulous surface

I look into these precious mirrors

To see who I am and where to go

Though none of this would be possible

Without a place to stand.

Stepping Up

March 2

Stepping up

I look along the list of names, look upon the sea of faces.  Are there any whose eyes I avoid?  I gaze across the landscape are there any craters, any pock marks, any divots.  I tick through my actions those I’ve recently taken checking for stumbles, glitches, snafus.  These combined facts and figures create a portrait of my day; I appraise the eyes, the hair, the teeth.  If I can smile at what I see all is well if not I begin the repair. 

Plan for your contentment at least as much as you plan your escape

*

SWEAT

I turn the desk lamp into the eyes of God.
I put question after question
To the construct of my childhood concept.

Would you please explain?
Or exactly why did You do this,
That, or the other thing?

Are You now or have You ever been a member of?
I put the pressure on.
The beads of perspiration join and then trickle.

I have God in the box, I will not relent.
I don't understand You, I say disappointedly
As if speaking to a troubling adolescent.

You have so much potential, if only You would apply Yourself
The icon shakes It's head slowly and deliberately,
I shake my head too.

So much time has passed
And I am no closer to embrace.
You don't understand Me, says God to me.

Dawn breaks, I uncuff this mythic creature.
You are not the One I am looking for,
You are free to go

Drowning Naked

April 19

DROWNING NAKED

Bare and exposed, I laid myself on the altar of my home group. With AA as my only Source, I emptied the contents of my soul and bore the mantle of overexposure. But vultures lurked in many rooms. I was safely guided, by persons of my gender, to the more secluded and effective place of transmission. I thrust myself into the arms and mind of my sponsor. She escorted me up the steps with the door closed and taught me how and when it could be prudently opened. AA is a power greater than me. So is the ocean. Precaution needs to be taken when wading in. Care must be exercised as to how much to bare.

Wrap your intentions in wool to keep them warm and in gold to keep them untarnished.

*

Bound

The reason the sleeves of my disease

wrap around and tie in the back

is so that I will struggle with change.

Alcoholism is my straightjacket

and my goal is that ‘loose garment life’

I’ve heard so much about.

The sweat I work up

from railing against my confining existence

causes petulance, frothing and enervated,

Defeat is the landing on which I collapse,

acceptance a flight of steps away.

My ailment leads me to believe

I have nothing to hold onto as I adjust.

Though this isn’t true,

the fact remains that this is still

a process of letting go.