Bust-up: Holding Pattern

Clueless still and tired of temporary fixes;
Only the deathless will do,
But compassion is still needed
To manage my ire.

The fire burns higher today
But the spirit is low.
I’ve nowhere but up to go,
Or, at least I hope so.

How far down can I go?
I’m not sure I want to know,
And how will I know?
And when will I bounce back?

It’s so discouraging,
I need encouraging,
But from where will that come?
Or, can I do it on my own?

More questions than answers,
More doubt and fear.
Will a rescuer appear?
Or, will my misery simply disappear?

Meanwhile,
I’ve made my stew
And eaten it,
Washed the dishes,
And cleaned the sink.
I’ve brushed my teeth,
And combed my hair,
Laundered the clothes
And stowed them.

And now I wait for
I know not what.
How will I recognize it
When I see it?