The sky opens up
And the clouds of my mind rain down
Pour on the dreams of tomorrow
Until they're soggy, ruined things
Bleeding into one another until all that's left is a mess
A jumble of black ink.
Broken memories of a time before
Are swept into the flood
And the river of me flows rapidly
Until the sharp stones are worn smooth
And I'm left with little of what I once had.
Until my emotions build a raft
Of good times and bad
Of uncertain hope for the future
Void of fickle ink that can blotch
And written instead with permanent marker in its place.
Because the good times are now
But surely there are more to come
So I forge paddles out of thin webs of happiness
And begin to fight the current
To start moving back upstream.
And the webs weave into permanency
Until the future irons itself out
And the past replays over and over
And they both meet in the present
So a golden light shines on it all.
I can breathe without the fear of drowning at last.