Even after I turn off the radio
there is a red voice below my gut
that repeats, “You should be very afraid.”
Out the passenger window
I see three elk bedded down
in the snow beneath a spruce,
and then I am past them,
looking up valley at the mountains
where the wind blows the snow
in long white curls off the peaks.
I want to return, I think,
to a different chapter—
but I don’t believe it.
There are no fewer opportunities
now to fall in love,
and there are a whole lot more
chances to be of service.
I tell myself I was born
for exactly this life—
born to see the frosted cottonwood trees
on the valley floor
flood with the low light of morning,
born to meet the fear in my gut
and carry it with me to do brave and beautiful things.
beautiful!
love
Thanks, Alan loving you, r
From: “comment-reply@wordpress.com” Reply-To: Date: Saturday, January 28, 2017 at 6:54 AM To: Rosemerry Trommer Subject: [A Hundred Falling Veils] Comment: “Self Talk”
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That red voice. Amazing wordage.
I was thinking of the root chakra … that’s where I’m feeling the heightened sense of survival instinct …
born
It is a lovely, strength-restoring poem, mounting inspiriing, winning images on the backs of a scary world… ..but please, it’s fewer opportunities, lot less.
Carol! Thank you … I am so glad I can count on you to help me with grammar! Fixed it!
Beautifully put.
Hi Kristen, thanks for comment. Beauty and bravery, I never thought before of how much the two inform each other.