I Am The River – A Poem

I’ve forgotten who I am.

Lately,

I seem to exist in this constant haze,

never sure if I’m living or if I’m merely existing.

The fog,

omnipotent and omnipresent,

fills my mind.

I try to see past the fog,

slipping my fingers into it,

trying to part it as if the fog were a curtain.

Some days,

I am successful.

Beyond the fog there is a river and,

even when I can’t see the cool and crystalline water,

I can hear it as it rushes over the rocks.

If I listen to the water closely,

it sounds like someone is singing.

I try to look further through the fog so that I can see who the voice belongs to,

but the fog closes in,

becoming a wall that I cannot see past,

even as I try to dig my fingers into it,

trying to pull it open once more.

In the fog,

there are voices,

those of people from my past or from people I used to be,

the ones that never thought I was good enough,

that I am not deserving of what I have.

I cover my ears,

trying to stop the voices from getting in,

and yet there is still sound.

It’s the singing I’ve heard upon the crystalline waters,

the voice I’ve heard beyond the fog.

As it’s voice soars,

I hear it from within me and I realize that the voice is mine,

that the song I heard was my own.

As I stand there,

the fog whispering around me,

I close my eyes and watch as the song lights a flame within me.

It comes to light and grows stronger as the voice continues to sing.

I am the river and the fog,

the light within my body and my physical self.

I know that I will have to keep this flame alight,

that I must somehow see it across the river.

This gives me focus,

hope,

that I will find my way through.