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