After the Scary Thing
Sometimes life is scary.
Medical appointments,
the waiting room silence,
the test results not yet known.
The eye exam that measures
how clearly the world can still be seen.
The dentist’s chair,
the small worries we carry in our bodies.
Gatherings with strangers
where words feel hidden.
Gatherings with people we don’t like
where we hold our breath.
Even gatherings with people we love
can bring the quiet question:
What will I say?
The sky turning dark
with high winds and tornado warnings,
standing inside, watching to see
what the storm will decide.
Rains that fall too hard,
water rising where it shouldn’t,
the feeling of being small
against forces we cannot control.
There are so many things in life
that ask us to be brave.
So I tell myself:
this moment will pass.
The door will open.
The storm will move on.
And someday soon
I will be sitting quietly again,
listening to the birds
singing as if nothing ever happened.
For Sumana's prompt at What's Going On? -- the Sanctuary Within
(I loved the poem that of Mary Oliver that Sumana shared for this prompt. Really, what is the use of worry anyway? This poem expresses my way of dealing with worries: "This too shall pass.")
