All day fear knocks
or bangs at the door,
sometimes whimpers,
each time an invitation
not just to open the door
but to tear it down,
the walls, too,
to unclench both hands,
though you think, I can’t do this,
but you do, and while
fear hangs on you like a leaden
scarf, like wet gray wool,
you notice how dazzling,
how warm the sun.
“…with nobody listening we are saying thank you
thank you we are saying and waving
dark though it is.”
-WS Merwin
“…gotta kick at the darkness ’til it bleeds daylight.”
-Bruce Cockburn
sometimes, when you answer to let fear in and it envelops you have to, as when caught in an avalanche, strive with all your might to punch a hole to let in both air and light (and to let those nearby save you).
Beautiful responses, amigo, thank you, r
Lovely.
Thanks Anne!
That scarf sure conveys the itchy bulk of fear. One thing I might mention is a word hinged to that door: I think one would “…break it down” and not “…tear it down”.