How does she do it? She hitches a ride on the blow, a stowaway on that which brings her down.
—Teddy Macker, “The Mosquito Among the Raindrops”
There I was, making tea in my kitchen,
when fear hit me like a school bus.
I didn’t need a scientist or therapist
to tell me it hurt.
I screamed: Arghh! I shouted: No!
But after smashing into me,
fear just opened the folding glass door
of the bus, yanked me on,
then plopped me into a green vinyl seat.
I’m scared, I said.
Yeah, fear said. ’Cause I’m scary.
Yeah, I squealed, as the bus careened
through the couch, through
my bedroom, through the splintering
dining room table.
What if I lose everything? I said to fear.
Yeah, said fear, what if you do?
And who will I be when everything changes?
Yeah, said fear, who will you be?
Then he opened the door
and shoved me off the bus
and I was standing again beside
the familiar green counter,
tea cup in hand, not a drop spilled.
Who will you be? he shouted
from the half open window.
I took a deep breath,
not knowing how to respond,
then stepped into my life,
determined to live into the answer.
🙁 I’m sorry you had to write this poem. It’s good, so visual, so terrible to be in that position. Here’s hoping you can find some peace in all this.
yeaaaaaah, as my friend Andrea, said, it’s a “fucking brutal no-holds barred gift”
Whoo, what a ride! I know I’ve been on that same bus. Excellent poem.
Thanks, Heidi … dang. What a ride is right. yikes. hugs to you.
The “like” is for your wonderfully descriptive poem, Rosemerry, not for the awful emotions you were experiencing. Having been a regular passenger on the fear bus more times than I can count, I was right there with you through every turmoiled thought tossing you back and forth. Maybe seeing fear as a bus is actually a freeing thing because we could always disembark or refuse to get on it in the first place. Let it whoosh right past us as we choose to stay on Steady Street or Calm Avenue instead. 😉x
Thank you, Joy … yeah, I get it about the paradox of the like. It’s the same way that there is great joy even in writing a poem that touches something difficult. As in this one, where it was fun, really, to think of fear as a schoolbus … I was thinking of a poem by my friend Teddy Macker in which he describes how when a mosquito is hit by a raindrop, it’s the equivalent of getting hit by a schoolbus, but it doesn’t avoid them, it “hitches a ride on the blow,” and rides it down, then flies again. A fact he learned in Ranger Rick, I believe 😉 Anyway, feeling mosquito-ish, I guess … and so it is that there is pleasure available in even the most difficult moments, something that brings me back to poetry again and again and again.
What an intriguing fact about mosquitoes! A great life lesson for us all. Thanks for sharing it, Rosemerry. Yes, pleasure can be found in unexpected places, rather like joy hides on the other side of adversity. Poetry is a lifesaver for me, too. Being able to process thoughts by either writing or reading poetry is a great help and support. May the fears soon pass as you picture them as so many raindrops you can either “hitch a ride on the blow” or learn to shake off, just like dogs do. 😊☔️❤️