The fast beating heart and labored breath
Rise up to banish reason
And the mind submits to the little death.
Thus is born the lair of demons;
As they are summoned and formed,
Causing doubt and indecision.
But hope may rally in the silence that follows;
Ordering the confusion and turmoil,
Armoring temper and spirit.
The wild dream and passing fancy
May cast a light within the darkness
And create a path to freedom.
Upon these paths tread angels,
Created from the living of our lives,
Rejoicing against the darkness.
Fear and hope travel together,
Never walking hand in hand
But following the other eternally.
Questions and comments are welcome and may be directed to bradac at alaska dot net