A dragon trapped me in the walls
Of fortress worlds away
My hope: one day a knight would come,
Bring me from dark to day
I took a candle, every night
And with a falt’ring tread
I set its tiny flame upon
The sill close by my bed
One day, I said, someone will see
My silent, wretched cry
My plea to search within my walls
To grab my hand and fly
But unlike that which Psyche saw
My candle showed no face
Just blackness, not a star above,
A plane of empty space
I try to think
rationally
Try to tell myself
it’s not true
But my mind
just won’t listen
The chains
grasp
ensnare
trap
I
can’t
do
it
God tells me to obey
But the chains
pull
me
back
Fear
For as long as I can remember, I have been captivated by clouds. No doubt this love was greatly enhanced by the fact that I grew up in the American Midwest, where some of the most spectacular cloud formations in the world are the daily norm. Hours upon hours of my childhood and teen years were devoted to lying on the ground or sitting on a high vantage point, watching everything from cotton puffs to monstrous storm cells move overhead.
We had arrived at the airport two hours before our flight, like you’re supposed to. The trouble is that with a tiny regional airport like Springfield, getting through security takes next to no time, and we found ourselves with an hour and a half to sit and wait.
Once again, Amanda seemed completely calm and relaxed and I was trying desperately to imitate her, even though my mind, emotions, and internal organs were churning.
It was a gray, rainy Wednesday morning when Amanda came to my apartment to help make sure I was ready to go—she being a seasoned traveler, and me having never been out of the country before. I had been up for hours already, unable to sleep, and had packed and re-packed my backpack at least half a dozen times. I’m one of those people who needs very little in reality and yet, when faced with the prospect of travel, feels compelled to pack everything I own, just in case; not an ideal compulsion to have when you’re about to embark on a backpacks-only trip.
By the end of my first day of teaching the following week, the ball seemed years ago, a distant memory buried under an avalanche of paperwork, schedules, lesson plans, grading, and assignments. Had it not been for Devorah Erren’s insufferable boasting to the other girls about the ball (she being the only one of the class whose parents had allowed her to attend) I might not have thought of it at all.
By the middle of the week, however, my thoughts had turned to the upcoming festival that I was to attend with Mira and her family.
Here I hide all alone, clenched tight with fear
in a dark little box, nothing to see
My situation's reasoning is indeed quite queer
A hunter is searching ruthlessly
My hunter is my friend, who I held quite dear
Her betrayal is as difficult as can be
I did not make a sound that she could hear
But my hunter spotted me visually
She looked down at me, her face looked sincere
For now the person who's "It" is me
Disclaimer: I don’t love any of my rabbits more than the others, despite how this story may sound. All of them have had a special place in my heart, and I treasure every one of them. Now on to the story:
Finally, it comes
and I can breathe again
even with the world crashing around me
and terror towering above.
Clarity of sky brings clarity of mind - take it away:
the lovely blue sky
fading at the edge
and then the sun, pure pure white
and blazing with all the colors in the universe - let me forget,
let my thoughts fuzz around the edges like bad reception.
I love the brilliance
but right now I am happy to let it rain
with the soft water grazing my cheeks and tickling the roots of my hair.
It's almost done now
Fear: A Silver Lining.
“The only thing we have to fear, is but fear itself...”
President Franklin Roosevelt said this on March 4, 1933. The reason why is because of the financial problems with the whole nation during the Great Depression. During those sad times, many died in the inside before their physical body deteriorated.