"When fear is around" A Poem
Story behind the poem:
The inspiration behind the poem. When we observe people around us I always say we are outsiders looking in, inside their box. Imagine the world you live in. It is different then mine. Your community, your office. your house. That is "your box." If I were to look inside your world it would like like me taking the lid off the top of the box and looking inside. I am looking into your box. Inside your world.
When we live in our own box, we see things from our perspective. But when an outsider looks into the box they will see things very differently. When my husband and I chat about life, the kids, or work, his perspective is different then mine. We look into eachothers boxes and sometimes see things differently. And that can be helpful, and eye opening (after the frustration of being told how different I am).
When looking into the box, we see people at their best or worst. But we don't analyze ourselves that way.
Both our Babcia's suffer from some level if anxiety and fear (night time fear of the dark, yet saying they are not afraid. Teasing kids with fear of animals, or losing a chess game...) I mean everyone does have some level of fear, or anxiety at some point in their lives. However as they age their fears are sharpened, like a fine point on a sharpened pencil. I just see WHAT their particular fears is more then they recognize it themselves. For one grandma, sometimes it is medical concerns, and death and dying. For the other its the darkness, nighttime and a fear of someone breaking into her home. I would argue we all have these as fears, at some point. Or concerns. I just see it amplified in them because they talk about THESE particular fears often.
The Poem // WHEN FEAR IS AROUND
Growing,
Stronger,
Every year.
Paranoia,
Anxiety,
Her fear.
Driving,
Walking,
Every day.
The Beach,
The store,
Every way.
Her fear of the dark has swollen thick,
When driving she fears getting hit,
What, when, where is it
The fear is hers and constant.
All. The. Time.
She can't face it.
She feels it,
She never unwinds.
Do you see that truck? Is the alarm on? In case of fire, keep it armed.
At night I hear her as she dreams, muffled noises, silent screams.
By morning we learn she was running away, from the dark, a man, an animal gone astray.
We can't discuss it,
she denies it's there.
The ever constant,
always growing, Fear.
The storm was so loud,
I laid in bed,
The the trees shook,
Branches scraping above my bed.
Did the siren sound? Did the earth shake?
No major alarms, but it still made her heart quake.
It's the smallest thing,
The quietest creek,
When her ears give alert,
And she listens for it to speak.
Fear says hello
In its own way.
Each of us hearing it,
What does it say?
For me it's the creaking in the hall,
Why is there noise when there should be none at all.
For him it's his wife coming to bed,
It's late, its dark, he rested his head.
Suddenly a light, someone entering the room,
He catches his breath as his heart zooms.
For the children it's the darkness, when they lay their heads.
And they snuggle their animals, warm in their beds.
They fall asleep to the sounds of kids songs,
The pounding of their hearts is drowned and gone.
And Great Grandma she wonders,
Will I fall asleep in my bed,
Or will I fall into that wonderland,
And my body lay cold and dead?
Then her heart pounds,
Her face warms, and she quakes
Her mind racing,
She quivers and quakes.
It's happening, this is the moment it's now,....
When fear takes over and all reason bows down.
I wish her peace, I wish her calm,
I wish her patients thru the it all.
Neither silence or sound,
Can help calm her,
When Fear is Around.
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