NaPoWriMo-Day Nine (Where angels fear to tread)

How is it I am asked

To give name

To speak words making real

That which is feared

Within?

I choose to soar beyond that

Which hovers in darkness

Caught on the peripheral sight

Where eyes look away

Seeking solace and light.

I know of many whispered images within

Yet moving beyond after confronting the beast

To see it diminished,

Shrunken like a tribal head

Found on a quest for new places

And finding the same ghosts that rise from the mist

Like welcome friends,

I embrace it all,

Each nuance and word that I myself give meaning to

And to name it as fear is something

I cannot do,

For it is equal and just

A part of the whole embraced

Like light and dark,

The nameless fades into

Nothing.

What is this word fear?

Why must I be party to selection of this over that

When it all disolves away like sugar in water

Leaving a sweet aftertaste

Of victory in the conquering

Mind over feeling.

I don’t find it wrong in saying something I fear to say, but as an open slate I find myself bristling a bit at the idea. To me fear is just that, a word. If I give it no meaning, then it is nothing. I could say I fear snakes, but it is just a feeling of something I am not close enough to know. It is a thought put in my mind somewhere along the way in my life by someone….it filtered in, and I will filter it out as just that. Irrational…..I prefer equal calm in my world….I could say I dislike someone or something said….but it is just an opinion….saying out loud does nothing good…..so I let it go….move forward…..leaving it dissolving behind me on my journey. 

And now, for our prompt (optional, as always). This one sounds simple, but it can be pretty difficult. Today, I challenge you to write a poem that includes a line that you’re afraid to write. This might be because it expresses something very personal that makes you uncomfortable – either because of its content (“I always hated grandma”), or because it seems too emotional or ugly or strange (“I love you so much I would eat a cockroach for you”). Or even because it sounds too boring or expected (“You know what? I like cooking noodles and going to bed at 7 p.m.”). But it should be something that you’re genuinely a little scared to say. Happy (or if not happy, brave) writing!