POETRY
Wearing the Habit
Meditations on Fear 2 • action becomes habit, habit becomes character

While the habit of my fear Does scratch my skin And make me wheeze I tell myself It also keeps me safe From the beasties in the bushes
But the beasties in the bushes Might be my exiled friends. I get this. I get it.
They want to sing with me And I kind of Want to sing with them But still I stand shivering At waters edge, Waiting for the hounds That never come
If I were to let them What would they say to me? Would they stare With eyes as big as planets? Would they say Why have you abandoned us? Would they say Can we eat at your table? Can we sleep in your bed? Can we curl back inside you, Deep around your spine Where we used to sleep Before you cast us down?
But don’t you see The casing I have made Holds me so nicely in With staples into skin It makes a tidy shape, Narrow in the middle, Pleasing to those who Appreciate the smaller things And the smaller people And most of all! Pleasing to those who Are afraid
Oh the habit of my fear Does scratch my skin And make me wheeze
This poem is part 2 of a series of 5 about fear. Each one can be read as a stand-alone or part of the series. If you like, you can see the series here (with the link updated as each piece is published). Thank you for reading!
A shout-out to John Horan for Song of Life – I love the hope in this piece, even at the darkest hour…
