Fear
When someone is chasing me in a nightmare,
my feet are stuck.
I cannot move.
I am glued to all that is
desolate, betrayed, abandoned.
I stand upon this quagmire.
I cannot move.
I do not sink, but I cannot move.
I have no strength to fight
to free myself.
I stand.
I stand.
I stand.
I wish for something
to slip under my feet.
There is nothing.
There is no one around.
I am alone.
I feel the quagmire.
It breathes.
Sometimes it sings.
I do not listen.
I say the name of God:
The surface beneath me
smoothes like calm water.
I touch the water with my right hand
and a silver vessel carries me
across the river.
I row into the moonlight,
Then I row home again.
@ Katherine Posselt 2001
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