Past and Future stabled together – both present, tethered, and unstable.
Kindred ghosts pushed-pulled by a hopeful anxiety, agitated by the yet unknown morning, eager to be free. And once freed, breaking fast, bolt-bursting, in competition – in unison, leaving Present to peer from the darkness – who will win after all?
past, present and future are uncomfortable stable-mates
you give me a sense of peace
uneasy at times as I always worry how you feel you say you like to listen I still think I talk to much to fill anxious silence, fear that you won't be there on the other end of the rope As I still learn to trust that you will be….. That you will come back.
"I think I talk too much, I need to listen.."
You are my quiet space
When the hurricane of time whips around me and scars my skin…. You are my quiet space. I'd say an anchor but we move in the wind We waltz as time sways, races, drags onwards. It sets the pace and screams its soul into my ears……. You are my quiet space. Moving ever forward My fire burns brightly in passion or rage and you always flood me over with reason. To me, your presence, like rain, is infrequent, but needed. You are my quiet space, my eye of the storm.
The riders gleaming golden saddle
Hides the swirling, eternal battles Fought within the bravest minds Surfacing amongst the worst times Laid bare to eyes they’ll never be Imaginations one will never see
I wrote this to describe moments of anxiety that can be too much and overwhelming