We try a new drug, a new combination 
of drugs, and suddenly 
I fall into my life again 
like a vole picked up by a storm 
then dropped three valleys 
and two mountains away from home. 
I can find my way back. I know 
I will recognize the store 
where I used to buy milk and gas. 
I remember the house and barn, 
the rake, the blue cups and plates, 
the Russian novels I loved so much, 
and the black silk nightgown 
that he once thrust 
into the toe of my Christmas stocking.
 — Jane Kenyon
  LifeHopeDepression