Hovering

Tentative. Waiting. Hovering.

I have worked almost a year to get my health under control.

I have worked a lifetime to get my emotions under control.

But now that enemy of the soul, depression, hovers over me like an angel of death.

It dims the beauty around me, mutes the music, ruins the snug coziness of my bed.

It has not quite descended, but it wants to, is waiting for just the right moment to fall upon me like the red tailed hawk falls upon the sparrow.

I don't know whether to fly into the light trusting it will blind my enemy, or slip into the shadows until it goes away.

And so I hover here

Searching, praying, meditating,

Waiting.