No Dream Left to The Trap Of Fear

No Dream Left to The Trap Of Fear 

Here, beneath this shadow of this tree she finds solace. Its branches bare as fall sets in, as the cold air arrests her lungs with a strange delight. Bird's sing with gentle chirps as she looks upon the view before her.

A thousand feet scurry from one block to the next.

Her heart quivering in fear for what is to come next of this unfortunate step. But her smile remains, strong, and unchanged. Her body is filled with peace, though her mind wishes to flood with anxiety. And anxiety, which she feels affectionately. For she knows wholly the tax these scurrying hundreds pay. As it burdens the air as they hurry with bland faces to meet the ticking of a clock, rushing with animosity for another's dream.

Exchanging their soul for another's time. Waiting with each passing day as the hours add up to show value of their soul.

And in this unpleasant view and the distilling of anxiety in the air. She closes her eyes and begins to weep. She allows tears to flow silently as visions of faith cast on a horizon, like colors spilling from the heavens. Choirs of angels sing in the tranquility of her tears.

As the angels sing, she plants a seed at the garden of her heart. Calming it, from the quivering of fear. And in the presence of her heart as she holds the seed. She reaches gently to the soil of her heart. And with one tender press into the soil, the seed is planted.

A tear falls and her soul rises from this seed. All breath seems new, all lakes, rivers, and oceans that quaked with a mighty roar of corrosive intent.  Become lulled in their anger, misery, and wishing of death. Now they lay peaceful, settled like calm winds in the night.

All was weighed heavy with blusterous uncertainty, misery, and hopelessness. She had given away so much time for another's dream, just to live day by day. Never living in herself or her dreams. But now, forced from her occupation given by another.

She now sees the sorrow the world carries upon the dreadful steps of living for the worth of time. Never living to live. And now, though cut from the vine that gave security. She finds hope in the uncertain, the ability to make something from nothing. The ability to see that death is following, thus, there is no dream that should be left to the trap of fear.

Thank you for reading, please for and enjoy a copy of A Man's Traveled Heart

Also follow me on Facebook and Twitter for FB/TW only poems 


Popular posts from this blog

A Summer Bird's Winter Perch