hoarding hope

giving with eyes open.  seeing the invisible dreams.  holding the hand that clutches hope.  bringing positive energy into negative noise.  making one step at a time move one minute closer.  all done in the name of God and humanity, through on the job training, unanticipated and unrehearsed.

I'm looking for the  litmus test, searching for a clue. am I doing right, giving enough, filling the voids?  what am I missing, cuz I feel a bit askew.  I realize my role is irregular, I realize my audience's diverse.  my heart lives on my sleeve, sensitive to the sounds of breaking beats nearby.  around my neck lies my hot pink stethoscope, an instrument played rarely, unable to measure levels of insight and initiative.  Mental ingenuity drives the assessments now.  Minds reading minds.  My mind peering into yours through conversation and cooperation.  Calm respite invites gradual renewal and gradual acceptance.  I must be patient.  I must temper my resolve.

all these years battling my inner demons and unrecognizable irrationalities have ironically taught me how to help other lost souls walk away from their precipices. One foot in front of the other and one deep breath at a time.  I remind myself to dig into my soul's treasures for lessons learned, and initiate my instincts upon impact.  Slow doesn't count in mental illness.  Horseshoes cannot be played alone.  I am nurse hear me roar!