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
...sometimes I fear the rustle of the newspaper
becoming the wall we don't know how to climb
having nothing left in common
...sometimes I fear the rustle of the newspaper
becoming the wall we don't know how to climb
having nothing left in common
but what once was
and the ache for it to return
once more
and the ache for it to return
once more
But when fear overtakes me, and darkens my day
I close my eyes, talk to God until my fears melt away
He takes my despair and anxiety
As He whispers, dear child, I will never leave thee.
© Janet Martin
I never dwell on my fears for fear that fear will overtake faith.
But I did stop to consider them as I contemplated the Poetic Bloomings prompt.
