Evening Meditation:
Two-thirds cup of doubt in an empty cup. That was my kind of luck. No leap of faith would fill my drunken cup or keep me sober. My trust in my own recovery is not yet complete, has never been, may never be. I have to be here fully, or close to full, belly up to my own Recovery Bar.
I am my own Trojan horse- a full cup hidden inside an empty one.
“Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one’s mistakes.”
Oscar Wilde
Question for Today:
Where is the sound that will take you to the silence within the sound? Where is the blood so red that it journies into white? Where is the riverbed through which your life flows? When will now begin? Is this what sobriety is?
from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Day 82)
Hello darkness, my old friend
ReplyDeleteI've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence