Slow Process of Restoration (Long Covid)

I took breathe for granted. 

The ease of air through my lungs at rest, through exertion, through song. 

The once beautiful silence inflates into a crumpled bag.

The stress of all I didn’t do with them collects on their walls. 

This body has gone through so much healing, again and again. Hit after hit aiming for the mind, the heart, the immune system. To be broken into pieces so fine, they are unrecognizable. 

Rock bottom was only the beginning. 

A layer of corrosion hides the only raw materials I need. 

And it’s a slow process of restoration. 

I’ll take a walk again without losing my breath. I’ll run, I’ll climb, I’ll swim. 

I’ll sing at the top of my lungs driving down the backroads across my beautiful country. 

S. Bello © 2020