Blessed Illness

Blessed illness.

You soften me,

and still me,

making me like newly fallen snow.

I am like the earth, enwrapped in white.

And my rough places,

my sharp edges,

are blanketed and filled in.

All disruption,

and all corruption,

are healed,

by blessed illness.

How funny,

and how ironic,

how strange the magic,

you work within me.

Illness converts my mind,

and soothes my nerves,

and mends my heart.

Restoring my soul in wholeness.


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