I try and rise above the fear-induced fog in my mind
Above the lemon-rind bitterness that loving and leaving
Leaves behind, residual regret resounds off the walls
Of my aching but throbbingly alive consciousness
Cool clear skies beckon with the promise of freedom
Of clarity, peace of mind, rare insight and flight
But my attachment to the past is cemented
Like the stubborn slivers that truss the clam to its shell
And the barnacle to its rock, calm reason and stock taking
Do not help sever these ties that bind and gag but only drag
Me deeper down into the morass – steaming, fuming
With noxious odors and malodorous vapors
That simply swell the fog to cumbersome proportions
Rise I will though, buoyed by the spirit within my very cells
Ringing with life and the promise that the future holds many surprises
“The universe is filled with magical things waiting for us mortals to sharpen our wits”
(28th April,2001)