Joy

You didn’t know

You hadn’t felt joy until you felt it.

It was a moment: San Francisco, 2008,

One year sober.

You lived in that apartment on Octavia Street,

Where if you leaned out the window far enough,

You could see the water, the bridge.

The sun came in: Silver.

The light opened something in you,

Introduced you to yourself.

You were who you thought you were and also not.

There is a sparkling clarity that comes

When you choose to spend every day

In your right mind. Nothing between you and the world

But your skin, and in sobriety that too is thinner

Than it once was. You are part of

Instead of alongside. You battle

With the darkest reaches of your mind

And win. You remain standing. In that silver light.

Holding that door open. Ushering life in.