Around the Wheel, Again

A bipolar/schizoaffective travel story

Image of a Ritual Wheel, created and photographed by the author, during a manic episode.

1. Ice

These walls are moist and cold as slumber;
I hibernate and rewind the night
again. I tell doc I only took a walk,
nothing nefarious in mind: such a lie.
She nods and pens the script: Risperdal,
again; and a sedative — relax, to slumber;
well, without the sound — movies playing.
I turn and wrap myself in the warm jacket:
with a finger, I sketch a smiley-face;
these walls are moist and cold,
again.

2. Grow

Thoughts grow faster, quickening; grass
I feel between my fingers-hands-arms moving
freestyle, strokes through green blades, green,
I am earth, angel flying/falling, and the head
of dandelions singing hymns. I will reach
up to touch a spring-cloudy, a mirror to break,
fast, bursts down my grateful tears. I am
all tongues — of trees, of leaves, of green;
all my music sighs, only high notes of sparrows,
again.