Friday, June 14, 2013
I am a brittle stick, hid from the wind,
A delicate delinquent in my cave,
A captive of my comfort, yet chagrined,
Afraid to live the life I seek to save.
I fear to touch another, lest I catch
A cold, the flu, or germ that does misgive.
What do I gain, if I my friends dispatch
To save my life, and then forget to live?
I ask myself these questions ev'ry night:
Is life a tangled track that must be raced,
In fear that it might end in sudden fright?
And should my death be feared or be embraced?
One fear pierces my soul -- a spectral knife:
To leave a long and careful, unlived life.
Recently, I have been taking more chances: attending meetings, going out in public, and even walking in sunshine (for limited periods only!). Why? I live in fear that a simple virus or bacterium will once again race past my suppressed immune system, and dance the devil's disco in my odeum. But, living is about more than phone calls, e-mails, and looking out the window at the world.
Posted by Mick at 10:16 PM