Fears

quintessential rhythms of life
pull at her like unforseen
threads tight and strong
like the chubby tiny fingers
connected to grasping arms

of all the children in her
past, present and future
calling her name as tears
were shed or laughter came
as words calmed their fears

quintessential rhythms of life
like breathing out and in
waking with each sun streaked
sky to watch patient each day
for the moon that will rise
to bring sleep’s calm sway

hoping that energy comes alive
as she wakes again dreaming
of bits and pieces of life
a reel on a camera fast forward
traveling at the speed of light

each year pages flipped in a
book the story not finished but
look and be quick as six decades
creep silent a tendriled vine
quintessential rhythms of life

Some people have grief over reaching age 30, 40 or even 50. Those were easy for me but this year is a milestone 60 years fast approaching and it is my turn to feel as though life has gone way too fast. Writing always helps.

She remembers the
feeling of
falling
falling
falling
down a thousand
feet to the
creek below

The creek bed lie
swirling
swiftly
moving
in the rainy
windy
afternoon

She could see the
pebbles
smooth
glass
reflections
greeting

Then the bridge
swinging
stilled
silencing
her fears

She trembled as
hanging on
she saw him
waiting

The other side
beckoning she
moved forward

She no longer
was falling

Years ago now I went on a hiking trip with some friends and my teenage son. The foot bridge across the stream below was closed so we climbed to the top to another way across, a swinging bridge with rope for hand holds and wooden slats that were not very close to one another. When we arrived it began raining and the wind was strong. My son went straight across but I remained glued to the spot. I don’t do well with heights and I’ve never again went across another swinging bridge. There was only room for one person at a time to walk. Quite an experience.