Fear

The rigid leaden weight squats in my heart, wearing its mask of concern,
Clamping my nerve endings and paralysing me so I can no longer think or speak or act.
If I fight, we cling to each other and sink into a thick oblivion.


If I stop fighting,
I can  quietly watch, as it grows, crests and subsides,
I can breathe slowly and deeply and make room for it.
Expanding and accepting.
I can allow it to be and ask ...
What is important in my heart?


And do it.