By Carol Hale
As sleep eludes me my mind flips and flops around like a fish out of water.
I swim again through the troubled waters of my life
Looking at snippets and snags of problems over which I worry.
So many could have beens, should have beens and would have beens
Want to be, must try harder to be, will I ever be again?
Where did I go?
I sank alone and unwillingly down so deep, so slow, so long – long years I cannot remember all.
Why can’t I find me now?
I had known my name, how hard the game and exactly how to play it
But the rules have changed, remaining hidden
Only to surface suddenly and swiftly pull me under without warning again and again.
This seaweed of illness in which I have become entangled
Makes meaningful life almost impossible.
i’ve lost myself. Who am I now?
Am I nothing more than an insignificant speck floating in the endless rippling oceans of the cosmos?