We stand, internally commanded –
With a charge –
Against the battle of the day.
We feel ourselves falter
And know that if we give in
To the moments that thrust against us,
We will fail.
With utter bite of frustration,
We set ourselves against the commanding forces
That slam themselves into the walled partitions
That separate us from a momentary glimpse of light.
The darkness settles in
As we feel pulled down
Toward the ground
And perhaps giving away
The precious high ground
We so desperately fought to win.
A shifting of the feet
And repositioning of weight
Gives to us
A glimmer of hope
In the fight for our lives.
The pressure mounting in all the wrong places
In our legs, backs, and shoulders
Has now been eased –
And we realize that maybe…
We have a chance.
The gate posts hold fast and so do we
As the morning light begins to flicker
From behind the eastern mountains…
The ogres fall back
And retreat from the coming brightness.