The River Of Fear

is turbid and confounding.

You can feel its distortion,

swim in its ephemeral

largeness at night,

but it’s not endless.

And you are more

than the “what if”

scenarios filling gaps

around your muscles,

holding you in place,

waiting and waiting

for some of kind of 

rescue from hands

that are too busy 

to notice their own

inaccessibility.

Perhaps no one will

ever mention this, but

what's REAL doesn’t

just exist for others.

Enter, and let it enter,

interfere, and interrupt

icy currents that carry

you away from living.

The mystics bear witness

that even paradise has

deep waters to cross

with your own shivering

body causing ripples.