The last few weeks have been kind of rough. My depression has come back, as it always does once the weather gets cold and starts turning to winter. The thing to remember about depression and all mental illness is that there isn’t always a reason. Sometimes there is no former trauma, there are no triggers, it just happens. I’ve been trying to look for the good and see hope, though. I wrote a couple of poems about it. They may seem a little forced, but sometimes that’s what we’ve got to do. We have to force ourselves to look for hope in the midst of darkness and despair.
October Moon by Tacy Gibbons October moon spreads its light softly over fallen leaves and fallen tears. Just enough for some small hope, a little healing. Understanding. Change, metamorphosis can be painful. Dying leaves crumble beneath heavy footsteps. Yet even in the dead of night the jeweled moon shines. Trees on the mountain, blazing red, orange, yellow, will fall, replaced by new, vibrant greens in spring. Growth. Renewal. Ever stretching toward the sky.
In November by Tacy Gibbons Tunnel vision is easy when the sun rises late and sets too early behind craggily-toothed mountains. SADness feels like it will last forever in the long, cold, dark winter. I find some small comfort in black-capped chickadees perched on frosty trees, continuing to sing with breath curling out before them— a twirling, lilting song of hope in the freezing November morn.