Poems of Recovering

Two poems originally written in free verse believable, that transformed into more tightly structured forms.

Poems of Recovery

By Phil Hefner

Grounding

 1/17/2023

My search is for grounding

for the deep-down of things

where freshness of living

is to be found

that’s where I can stand

when my world spins

beyond my comfort zone

twists in forms beyond

my understanding

call it really real

where there’s a center

that holds where chaos

is calmed where

everlasting arms

reach to hold me

firm

where is this ground

how will I find those arms

perhaps in heaven above

or a memory of a past love

or best of all in you dear friend

Grounding: a sonnet

1/26/2023

My search is for the deep-downness of things,

Where streams of life flow unimpeded, strong

And undergirded by rock-solid earth. I long

For the center that holds when chaos brings 

Fears and shakes me from my comfort zone.

Twisting my world in ways beyond my ken.

I reel and falter, in a state of vertigo. And then

It dawns on me: I seek the really real, the tone

Of the cantus firmus, the melody that grounds

And envelopes me with its resonating sounds—

like the mother-God’s everlasting arms—

Protecting me from all besetting harms .

Where do I find grounding —over the rainbow in skies of blue?

In the memory of past love? Or, dear friend, in you?

I’ve found the ground

2/3/2036

I’ve found the ground

that I sought 

but I am not where I was

th ground has shifted 

I jumped into the air

but did not land 

in the same place

The world is still there

but it is a different world

Up is heaven

here below the earth

the people are here

but it’s a different world 

and I need a map

For stable worlds

gazetteers abound

not much help

for a world that’s changed

gazetteers abound

not much help

For a world that’s changed

We wander life’s wilderness without a map

2/8/2023

We wander life’s wilderness without a map

We wander. Life’s wilderness without a map,

Affords no straight line route for travel,

There is no short cut, every road may be a trap.

Atlas, compass and gazetteer of no avail.

So, we wander life’s wilderness. Without a map,

it’s a trackless jungle full of dangers and peril.

A desert’s endless dunes—our minds snap,

Our eyes see mirage where there’s only sand aswirl.

We wander life’s wilderness without a map,

But we rely on our own heart’s compass, 

Our own sense of true North—we wrap

Our hopes in humble prayer, because—alas!—

We wander life’s wilderness without a map.

(c) Phil Hefner 2023