(I used to write in this half-poetical manner a bit more,but have lapsed in favor of full sentences. But this is where today took me and I hope you’ll bear with my formatting and fragmentation, because poetry. And experimentation. And art.)
Fear repeats fear
and never a word more.
blending the edges of what is
with what could be.
I can’t see the difference.
The echoes of dread and expectation linger and mute into a dull roar
everything feels the same.
aching persistent tremor of unrest.
the moment subsides into the next.
fear rubbing shoulders with normalcy
until time moves on.
worries waiting dormant
under the surface of words.
Life waits and confronts like the tide on the sand,
standing back and then rushing forward in dashes of expectation or meandering.
Hope lingers thoughtfully in the foam
un-blurring the edges of reality and possibility
gradually anchoring self back into self agency.
where patterns fall back into familiar shapes.
and life goes on.
as it is.
as it might be.
but also as I make it.
Not fearless, but overcoming and continuing.
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