Why should I stare at the night sky,
ponder the distances, enjoy the beauty,
wonder about fundamental questions
of life here, of life there, of living?

Why should I try for recovery,
for turning everything over to God
or Power or the Universe or Truth
or whoever, whatever, I may call
a higher power? I can’t let go,
can’t escape the powers of the disease,
the grasp of the addiction even
when long years stretch since last I yielded.

Why should I claim to be entirely ready
for my character defects to be removed?
They’re ingrained as thoroughly
as my love of sugar, as my breath, as my life,
I cannot release them.

Why should I reach for the stars, dream the dreams
when I can’t achieve what I wish to?
Because the stars, the dreams, the recovery
is wonderful when I can drink in what I can receive
knowing how much more is out there for me to crave
the rest of my life as I look up.