Hand Me My Fear, Dear
We resist that which we do not know,
Fend off uncertainty like a dreaded crow.
A new thought is nothing but a sewer rat -
”I know what I want, and it’s not that!”
I know what’s good for me, I do!
They won’t fool me with their morning dew!
No springtime rebirth for me, please.
I’ll sink into my fear with ease.
Long-held beliefs are my old friends,
and I won’t budge, I will not bend.
Don’t tread here, and don’t even try
to ask that pertinent question - “WHY?”
It won’t be met with explanation:
That question’s an abomination.
My thoughts are solid, much like stone.
I house them all in hardened bone.
I hoard them in my thickened heart.
They dance fears through my mind like art.
(I relish each fear they impart.)
I fear hell, I fear retribution,
I fear judgement and absolution,
I fear what other people say -
This last fear eats me up all day
and keeps me up many a night.
It’s overwhelming - I can’t fight.
I fear difference, newness, joy.
I toss away lightness like a children’s toy.
I cloud my mind - the dark’s familiar.
The path they’ve set for me is linear.
Who’s ‘they’, you ask? I said - Stop asking!
You stir this ache in which I’m basking.
I’m wrapped in worry like a blanket.
I lay in bed each night and thank it
for carving me this narrow track.
I’ll keep to it - no turning back.
Try something new?
What’s it to you?
See - I can hound with questions, too!
You speak of knowledge and of peace -
Keep them tucked in your corner, please.
You mention stillness, talk of freedom -
Well, I’ll believe them when I see them.
Now hush - another shadow passes.
I must follow - hand me my glasses.
This is all that I want to see.
My foggy lenses comfort me.
Now retreat - go and let me be.
I’ll walk blind before I walk free.
