climb

I start in the hole every day,
with a ladder, a ration of food,
and the day ahead.
It starts like a riddle,
with a shadow of a man,
and a broken lightbulb
only its my heart instead.
What happened?
Puzzles aren't my thing.
If I ask the right questions,
I'll get to the solution.
But my questions are off
track and I don't know
the ones to ask.
And when I climb up the
ladder, even on the top rung,
I still can't reach the surface.
The more I struggle,
the deeper the hole gets,
such is my perception.
The less I struggle,
the deeper the hole gets.
As long as I hope, I am trapped.
Equanimity now, Shams, equanimity.
Because
hope
is harder than diamonds,
more eternal than
space.
It can not be destroyed, only
changed like energy.
One form into the next.
I need to hope for something
else.
But, every day, the hole fills
itself, and the race is on,
and I'll be on the surface
before I know it,
but I can't get there soon enough.