i’ve run out of words to say,
you know,
i am wrung dry of poetry,
heart just a little too buried.
see, instead, everything is just

heavy, heavy, heavy.

all closed-up throat and dragging feet and burning eyes.
building under collapse,
empty tank of gas,
edges too rusted for use.

and still—
still. the heart shakes.
beats wildly.
(like hummingbird wings)
the eyes gone empty,
but stay open. awake.
(owls in the night)

look. await me.
i can stay alive for another morning.

they are infinite in number

from our most frightening childhood dreams
to terrible nightmares in our later years
born from guilt, disillusionment, trauma, shame

they glare at us all of a sudden

apropos nothing they flash into our minds
disrupt what little peace we may have found
in our busy lives

when they arise from their sealed chambers
undo the locks we put on them
    to keep them quiet and remote

we have to face them
    eye to dreadful eye
    face to frightening face

then   gradually

    surprise

the closer our  stare
the more we are aware
that all these faces share
what we find hard to recognize

they look
    quite disconcertingly
like us

maybe we should
    rather than banish them away
acknowledge them  as what they are

the different facets of our selves
that we present to our world
from day to day

the day
when even the not so faithful
were tempted to pray
for the health of the nation

The sun will come up tomorrow,
the flowers will grow in the spring,
May love abound in your life and
peace to your soul may it bring.