I hardly dare to breathe;
it is like I am renewed,
with a freshness of circumstance and a
flighty hullabaloo.
But we are hindered,
we are amidst a gasp
for air,
dare we breathe that
icy heave of relief,
cosmic awareness
fills our stares?
Hurdles to jump o’er,
one, two, three,
more,
each second
another requirement,
patience, they implore,
we wait for them
to weave spells with time,
adulterous the moments seem –
we are gracious,
there is no whine.
And now quietness,
spells attest –
repair is possible,
not just probable,
let us lay
undue fears to rest.
It is more than possible,
sewn with hopes,
not dread,
we will never come out
second best.
© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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