Monday, December 7, 2009

We Are Mortal

We Are Mortal

Driven by fear and desperation,
the hours tick by
as faint whispers of panic become louder,
a suspected truth unable to be seen.

A brewing storm buffets the angry spirits,
coming out of a dim past to pound against the walls
demanding attention.
Thunder echoes with the whine of rising wind,
emptiness seems alive with a fright and tension
that builds on a single terrifying fact –
We are mortal.

Moment by moment, a tight coil of tension,
drawn to the breaking point,
seems like years which have halted the flow of time;
rooted in the walls of hearts and souls.

A instant of quiet,
the unending chill of terror,
as the hand of death brushes close;
then moves away, stirring the musty air
with a touch filled with overwhelming scents of
anxiety and dread.
My time has not come.

1 comment:

Dan Felstead said...

Bobbi...I really like how you have described the "tension" of growing old...knowing that at some point in the uncertain future...the spring will break.