Blessing

I wouldn't know a blessing if I saw her

walking down the street shouting

"I AM A BLESSING"

she comes so often in other, harsher ways

more painful ways

and no matter what she yells, she looks nothing like a blessing

crashed cars and loved ones gone too soon

spirit pacts and promises thrown away in a week

where's the blessing in any of that?

the chance to let go once again

to die to what is old

to be born to what is new

to write shitty poems again

the ones that hurt so bad and

don't look all that great on paper

to finish puzzles, read a whole damn book

to find the beauty in a drunk's angry scribbles on the VFW wall

to watch the sunset from beneath the bridge as the deer come out to play

to... next time, when I'll be well enough to dance the night away

and not just watch my angel dancing