Oil stick on paper. What is our relationship with fear? What do we do with our fear including how we hold it?
Holding (a poem)
Fumbling in her pocket
Three little fears abide
Two more up on the table
One on her nose astride.With tender touch and care
Gathering each she did,
One, two, three, four and six …
The fifth flew off and hid.Collected there upon her palm,
Protected by both hands,
Drawn up between the head
And heart in silence there she stands.Destroyed them not or buried
As in concrete thickly sets,
Avoiding signs with marquee lights
Nor casting out as nets.Instead there was awareness
Each fear’s reason and their place
The truth that shows a purpose
For a process not a race.Courage and compassion,
Humbly shines her soul
To hold each fear with love
Will heal and find her whole.
