My worries are so small

I burgeon its beating wings 
To give me a purpose to bleed.
Bleeding through a fury
For one needn’t worry.
But so tiny as fragments of broken glass
Piercing my feet in grass full of bees.
That is why it needs my attention
Or else I’ll fall
Into the painful sorrows of another dimension.
Without my worries
I will forgive too quickly
But then will my anger not dominate me.
My worries could find their peace
Away from the pits of Hades
Into the sweet gardens of Gaia
Blessed by the sensitivity of Siddharta.
But my worries are too strong
And my discipline too weak.
So leave me be
To my rooms of hatred
In the depths of my loneliness
Through the cycle of my tormenting nightmares.
Leave me to my small worries
As I will leave you to your peace.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

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Rodgers Avatar
March 13, 2024 at 4:12 PM
Dear Nicole, what a poignant exploration of the complexities of inner turmoil and the struggle to find peace amidst the chaos of life. Your vivid imagery, from the beating wings to the fragments of broken glass, conveys the weight of worries that can consume us. I love the contrast between the desire for peace and the grip of anxiety is palpable, reflecting the universal human experience of grappling with inner demons. Your words are filled with honesty and vulnerability, inviting reflection on the nature of worry and the quest for tranquility. Loved it! Blessings, Daniel
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