Holding On vs. Singing

Today, with my gray thoughts, I’m reminded of one of my favorite poems by Mary Oliver—I Will Try (posted on the side bar). It is a fantastic poem that matches my feelings so well.  I love these lines: 

 [a woman] who thinks now, too much, of roots

and the dark places

where everything is simply holding on. 

That is how I feel most of the time—thinking of dark places and simply holding on.  But she goes on:

But this too, I believe, is a place

where God is keeping watch

until we rise, and step forth again and—

but wait.  Be still.  Listen!

Is it red bird? Or something

inside myself, singing? 

At times I feel like there is something inside myself, singing.  But it sings so quietly, sometimes it’s hard to hear.  I like the idea that “God is keeping watch.” I don’t usually feel that way, but I want to believe it.  I just love poetry.  How do I move from simply holding on to singing?  I want that, but it is hard.  I seem to fluctuate so much.  Lately I've just been cruising along with a very mild depression.  It's the dysthymia, I think.  And it's okay; it's doable.  But I want something more.  I want to feel like singing.