And now I look into the mirror
to grasp my nature loud and clear.
When I look closely, this I see:
It’s fear that stares right back at me.
Oh, there’s a smile upon that face
to hide from folks the sad disgrace;
the barely hidden secret tear
engendered by that nagging fear.
As I grow older, year by year,
You’d think that I could shake that fear.
But — no! — it grows and still it grows.
Now I some sense must interpose
between my thoughts and my desires
to stoke anew creative fires.
Consider what I hold most dear
so I can learn to master fear.
Today Miz Quickly asked us for some introspection, perhaps writing about an attribute you lack or one you might possess in abundance. So here’s my quick take on the anxiety of putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. Thanks, MQ, for suggesting this.