Convalescence

Convalescence

For the first time

I stand without words

as they are plucked from my mind

by the critical eye

that is now ever watchful.

I sit now in convalescence

unable to fathom

the gales and storms

that have blown me here.

My unrest has been great

But a turbulent mind

is yet able

to bear the fruit

of its own labour,

and come to rest

in the peace of creation.