Making Progress
Peggy Kociscin 
The day you died, my spirit sought
to turn away from life;
It could not face the pain
that pierced its being like a knife.

I wanted to go with you.
Why should my life go on?
I found no earthly reason
to arise and greet the dawn.

I could not find a purpose;
How pointless it all seemed.
Reality seemed distant.
Was my life a bitter dream?

I seemed to be suspended
in a tiny piece of time;
Simply going though the motions
like an actor or a mime.

Then, bit by bit, as I endured
each never-ending day,
I learned to smile and laugh again
in a tenuous kind of way.

And now, although I miss you more
than any words could tell,
No longer am I mired in
a brutal, needless hell.

I know I cannot escape
my sadness and my pain.
But I need not give it power
to dominate again.

Once again I notice rainbows,
the stars adrift in space,
a flower's perfumed beauty,
the sunshine on my face.

I need not search so desperately
to find some subtle meaning,
some purpose in the hours enclosed
between daybreak and evening.

I find delight recaptured
in hearing, touching, seeing;
Once more I've come to know
the peaceful joy of being.