Everyday is Filled with Worry

The ice is melting,
The Horsemen are mounting.
I cover myself in down
it is not fear that smothers me,
but it is, but it does.

The noise shatters facades,
The paint-by-the-numbers posters of psychopaths
cover the canvas
and I tremble, yes I do, yes I do.

Whatever happened to people
who dreamed , pondered
and looked for a source of faith
not merely a dogma?
Are they there, am I one?

None dare call it reason.
None dare call it hope.
The mood is pre-apocalyptic.
Happy has fled to places unknown.
There is no cognitive closure.

I don't want to fear my God,
but I do, yes I do
and if in prayer I find an answer,
will I have to act?
I don't want to, no, not at all do I want to.

I prefer myopia,
it offers shelter when hard
rain is falling.
I wish for meadowlarks and wild berries,
prepare for things I can not speak of.
Silent screams are eating me alive.
Yes they are, yes they are.

Bobbie Kilzer Gogain