“Trust the process” I tell myself.
My mind works exactly as it’s meant to.
My limbs however seem to have a mind of their own.
This disconnect is deeply disturbing,
An old person trapped inside a young body.

I wake up every morning thinking it was all a nightmare.
Then slowly reality settles on my consciousness.
I try to shake it away but my body refuses to move.
Then suddenly a forceful determination emerges from my core,
I can do this. I will fight this.

And slowly I rise.
Softly swaying, proudly beautiful,
I steady myself, I pause a while
And with all the self belief I can gather,
I meet the eye of the storm.