Alone – 
or so I thought – 
in the drunken
inconsolable
uncontrollable
sobs of
self-pity
and
self-flagellation
and
self – 
the Psalms laid out
on open pages before me – 
barely breathing – 
grasping
begging
weeping
finally sleeping – 
unknowingly waking
with a fire kindled in my belly
that would never die away – 
never die away.*

*With thanks to “Within Our Darkest Night”, from the Songs of Taize