Walt has not been well the last few days or so, and I have not heard from him at all today. I have decided to go ahead and post my Bloom, and I’m sure his will spring forth as soon as he is able. In the meantime, let’s send thoughts and prayers to Buffalo.
MARIE ELENA’S CHOICE:
As is always the case, there are far too many that I wish to highlight. Amazing work, all! However, the one that brings tears to my eyes with every read is Janet Martin’s “Contemplating My Fears.” The tears induced by this piece are two-fold: (1) I relate too closely to each and every area of concern expressed. (2) Tender tears of a grateful heart for this: “He takes my despair and anxiety, as He whispers, ‘dear child, I will never leave thee.’” These deep, poetic moans had a profound effect on me, Janet, as does the faith and hope so clearly expressed. BEAUTIFUL.
Contemplating my Fears…
I fear the future quiet:
I fear the quiet of a still and sterile kitchen
Where there is no sound but the refrigerators hum
Once a haven of lively discussion
Of jam spills and chatter and breakfast toast-crumbs
I fear loss:
Anticipation, as a new day is stirred
The memory of your laughter in my ear
The lure in the dance of written word
The pleasure of having you near
The sanity I once took for granted
And maybe the tear as well
Because Alzheimer’s has stolen the person
Long before death’s gentle knell
I fear for my child,
Who, without no or yes
Has received the inheritance
Of my stubbornness
There is the fear of the unknown
Or the loss of a child’s faith
As they begin to question
What once they believed
There is the fear of evil
Hidden in a guise
That is soothing and delightful
To undiscerning eyes
I fear, more than losing a child to death
Losing a child to this world.
I thought once that I feared growing old
And I guess, perhaps if the truth were told
I still do
I fear being poor…
Not seeing gold in the sun
Sapphire in the sky
A diamond in the dewdrop
Or perhaps, in your eye
The riches of wisdom
Traded for dross
The folly of temporal
Molding eternal loss
I fear not wanting what I have
As I stand at autumn’s door
Knowing I must be brave
For I cannot return to summer’s shore
But when fear overtakes me, and darkens my day
I close my eyes, talk to Jesus until my fears melt away
He takes my despair and anxiety
As He whispers, dear child, I will never leave thee.
I never think about my fear much
for fear that fear will overtake faith…
WALT’S LATE ENTRY:
As Marie has stated, I have been dealing with some issues of health. I’m making my way back slowly, but in the process I have found myself dealing with more than that. For that reason which will remain unexplained, I empathized and relate to Amy Barlow Liberatore’s THING 205, which earns my BEAUTIFUL BLOOM.
The Monster paid me an unannounced visit today.
It let itself in through the locked and bolted back door
on its way to another grief.
It took me in its arms as I,
limp as linguine and just as strained,
offered no resistence.
Its cowl became my heavy hood;
the weight of its robe dragged me to half-staff…
lugging laundry downstairs,
crying as I failed to muster strength to open a jar,
wracked with fear I’d be discovered here alone
with Same Old:
Telling me I’m worthless, a drag on my loved ones,
why bother with it all? Run away to a
thin spot on the icy lake…
Only my Boxing Gym of the Soul saved me.
My Trainer whispered spoke shouted in my ear,
“Slough off the robe, ooze off the couch.
Flop to the floor and exercise.
EXORCISE THE MONSTER!”
After my walk outside, the demon slunk in a corner.
Finally giving up, it didn’t bother to say goodbye,
But I make sure the door hit it in the ass
as it left to cripple someone else.
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil