June 18-22, 2017


I crawled out of my hole, slowly

it is hard, takes a very long time

things are reflected so weirdly


The Light so far away, I thought

it would never touch me and

I wasn't sure it wanted to and

I wasn't sure I wanted it to


Still I scrabbled up to it, because

the pain of Light is so much better than

this daily death of endless tears


The stinging slap of joy, though

bitter, still the good balm craved

by my beaten-down and broken spirit

so needing hope it cannot stand


Blessed Light, painful though it be

is infinitely to be desired over

the permanence of the night


And I grasp at these fragile gleams

clutch them closely to my life

that when darkness again will fall

breathing can go on


I Crawled Out of My Hole, Slowly
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

Copyright 2021

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