Shorted Out

The cord looks just fine
but music comes through
only when held still,
the two severed wire pieces
able to touch, to make contact,
until they separate and all
goes silent. It reminds me
of those times when I look right,
can hold on to appearances,
can pretend all is well, but I know
deep inside, the connection is weak,
the probability I’m not listening
to others in recovery,
to a power I’ve acknowledged,
to the wisdom of ages,
to my own best intentions.
It’s then the looks don’t count
and what’s left belongs in the trash
with the connection reestablished,
with a strong clear signal,
and then I can hear when I need
and have the wisdom, the courage,
the willingness to do what I know
is right.

IMG_20140911_144513_029