I see you on the hill,
unseeing,
the words tranquil in your mind,
tadpoles at the water’s edge
twitching lazily in a
gentle, sun-warmed current.
They cover you in such
abundance,
you’re convinced you can
summon them
like servants.
You’re so certain they will stand
in the background of your life
until you are inspired
to bring them to heel.
Just bear in mind that
abiding in
too long a silence,
they will slip away unnoticed,
and leave your so-called gift
unwrapped, unused,
and exposed to the
storms and heat of life,
to perish unseen,
and unloved.
Beyond Panic 