[Lately, I’ve been working through some things I haven’t dealt with before, but I’ve known people who have lived their lives within the framework of anxiety. So, that said, I am offering something that touches a topic I haven’t thought through as much as others have. There’s a lot I don’t know, so I ask for patience while reading this whatever-it-is. I’m hoping it’s helpful, not hurtful. Here goes.]
Turk’s cap, brilliantly crimson,
Perfectly formed, set against green–
It could be Christmas if it weren’t
White moths and big tadpoles,
Hummingbirds relishing the shade
Of my father’s butterfly weed.
I wasn’t always anxious–I remember,
I’ve thought of myself as brave,
(at least I’ve wanted to be).
Maybe anxieties can be developed
Same as allergies.
You’re free, then one day, later in life, you aren’t.
You feel constrained
Quite possibly you are insane.
You know the right answer even before the tears come:
Do NOT fret (don’t you dare!)
God is good.
And God is so good.
But you still might cry.
What is wrong with me? you shudder.
Not a damn thing
Except being human like everyone else.
Tears need no reasons;
Anxiety asks no one’s permission
Before it attacks.
Here is something
Reminding me I am not invincible.
Huge emotions besieging all my cool logic
Only forcing a few leaks from my eyes
I am small
You are great and good.
Hide me til it passes over.