Sunday, November 17, 2019

Poem -- Anxiety

Today's writing prompt for the November Poem A Day Challenge was to write a poem that had something to do with a kind of health. I have found that being "forced" to write each day is really good for clarity of thought and for straightening out (or trying to straighten out) issues, and since anxiety is something I deal with fairly often, that's the health issue that sprang to mind first. The poem is still a little rough. I'm sharing this one only because I know there are lots of us fighting this monster daily, and sometimes it just helps to know you're not alone in the struggle.

Anxiety                                                                                                                                                

A bad guy was coming for me
                I was certain
To sneak in through my bedroom window in the darkness
                I was certain
And he’d stab me in the back with a big kitchen knife
                I was certain
So I couldn’t sleep at night for months and months at ten years old

My mother would lie next to me
                She tried so hard
She’d pray for me and reassure me again and again
                She tried so hard
But I could tell she was frustrated and worn out on the drama
                Still she tried so hard
To explain to a brain of ten years how sometimes our beautiful minds can maliciously fool us
And she would say, “You don’t have to sleep, but just try to rest.”

And still today, with every tiny scratch or bump
                I feel certain
That deep, rare infection will take hold
                I feel certain
That time and talent will run out on me
                I feel painfully certain
And it wakes me cold for days on end, yes, even now in these middle ages

But a Kind Brother witnesses my weariness
                And He intercedes
My Priest prays for me as He commiserates
                And He intercedes
I worry that He will tire of me, of my drama
                And still He intercedes
Before the Almighty One, weaving the Comforter in and out of my nightly woes
And I hear Him say, “I won’t leave you, so just try to rest.”