There was a time when everything was gray.
And so as we drove the West Virginia byway
and the peaks in the distance shone a sparkling
emerald I couldn’t help but stare,
my sense of wonder getting much needed exercise.
They say that faith can move mountains,
and mine brought them to me,
a scene miles away from my bed in the psych ward;
in the center of chaos hope, restored, my solid ground.
Step by step, inching closer to awe,
baptized by a renewed sense of belief—
in the world, in others, in myself.
Back home, I fill my weekly pill dispenser,
the province of a faith practiced
one day, one moment, at a time.
