“I fear that should you read my mind
You’ll find my mind ain’t there.
I fear I’m holding you behind.
Don’t leave to run off where
Nighttime’s dreamings cannot stand.
I must not hesitate.
I fear I’ll reach my outstretched hand
Too fashionably late.”
Linked to dVerse Quadrille hosted by Victoria Ceretto-Slotto with prompt word “fear”. The pub opens at 3 PM EST. Come join us!
Photo: “Three Uprights” by the author linked to K’lee and Dale‘s Cosmic Photo Challenge with theme “three”.
It looks like jasenphoto’s Tuesday Photo Challenge also has “Three” as a theme. So I am linking this as well
Before the music finds a way to end
I hope these faithless fears would take a break;
I hope I’d choose to give more than I take
I hope to trust the present as a friend.
Before I tell a dream it’s time to rise
I hope its vision binds me in some way;
I hope to nourish it throughout the day
Until I find its truth in someone’s eyes.
Before my rhythmic breathing has to slow
I want to say I tried each given task;
I want to feel I hid behind no mask
Preventing any miracle to show;
And if my bucket’s empty when I’m done
I hope you won’t reject an emptied one.
Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar hosted by Victoria C. Slotto with prompt to write a list poem.
Photo: “Yellow, White, Red and Green” by the author. Flowers on display at the Chicago Botanic Garden.
They live free from lust and fear and anger.¹
I waste resources taking precautions against what I fear and nothing happens. It is what I don’t anticipate that messes me up. For example, while walking Fred that half mile we usually take through the forest I stay within view of the path so I won’t get lost. I don’t think about the problems Fred has been having with those chickens whom I allow to range freely near the cabin and who torment him chained to his doghouse. So when I unchain Fred, out of kindness, because we are buddies and all, and I see him turn back up the path briefly looking at me with scorn, I realize that I’m an idiot.
By the time I get back, Fred’s anger resolved his chicken problem. He is gnawing on one of them when he sees me and begins part two of his plan for domination. He rushes into the cabin defending his castle growling and baring his teeth. At this point I guess I felt fear, but mainly it was anger which is what fear turns into when it doesn’t care any more. I kneel down bracing for his charge with the chain in one hand and the forefinger of my other hand touching the floor beside me, “Get your ass over here.”
Fred is smarter than most animals I’ve met including myself. He bowed his head and submissively accepted the chain.
follow forrest trail
trees prepare for new spring growth
winter dying’s past
Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday hosted by Toni Spencer with the topic fear.
¹A quote about fear is required. Mine comes from the Bhagavad Gita, Eknath Easwaran translator.
Linked to NaPoWriMo2017 Day Seventeen.
Photo: “V” by the author
This simple story that is theirs to tell
Is older than the darkness of the night
And truer than the Sun’s new morning light
And deeper than the deepest magic spell.
Between them stood tall mountains none would cross,
A river that ran rapids through their dreams,
A forest that lay dense where one rose beamed
And warned them they could suffer every loss.
They followed Love no matter how they’d fall.
Then mountains bowed to open up the sky.
The river calmed. The forest lifted high.
What fear they felt they now could not recall.
Their tears took root, went deep. They understood
That darkness charmed by light transforms to good.
Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar: Pop Sonnets hosted by Kim of Writing in North Norfolk with the prompt to convert a pop song into a sonnet. I am not supposed to tell you which pop song I selected.
Linked to NaPoWriMo2017 Day Thirteen.
Photo: “Watching the Light” by the author
I trust when the monsters appear
They’ll be friendly and want to calm fear
And I trust that I, too,
On this trail I move through
Will not frighten the ones who come near.
Linked to Saturday’s Image Write #9 hosted by Bekkie Sanchez. The image is a picture of the Fool Card in the Tarot. The original artist of the Rider-Waite-Smith deck first published in 1910 was Pamela Colman Smith.
Linked also to imaginary garden with real toads who have the fool card as part of their prompt to start a month of writing one poem a day hosted by Brendan MacOdrum.
But for fear I appeared to be brave.
Being dumb made me harder to save.
When those monsters ate lunch
Even bones had to crunch
But at least I did not need a grave.
Written for the Limerick Challenge Week 40: Fears.
There once was a bird in a nest
Who thought he’d give flying a test.
“Any monkey can fly,”
Thought the bird way up high.
So he tried and he flew like the rest.