Poem 1
FEELING PRAYERS

My fears are unimpressive,

spilling over from an asthmatic childhood

after bedtimes, some 50 years gone.

But they are persistent, 

constricting my chest, and snagging my brain

like a yanked treble hook.

I hold the hand of what-ifs like Ebenezer

hovering with the spirit of Yet to Come,

looking down at an undetermined darkness.

And the quiet, and the night hours,

a retrograde meditation creeping in,

a seeping weakness.

I am not more deserving, 

or sanctified, or nimbus crested;

I’ve got a cardboard aura.

But here I am different in an afternoon,

imperceptibly blessed by something more

in my retrospect, taking hours to realize.

Someone is praying for me,

as real as someone put up the morning dishes,

or the willow greens in the front yard.

I am a child of God,

on the receiving end of a grace,

relinquished for empowerment.

Poem 2
FLATTENING THE CURVE

Caution and Fear share the same bloodline,

City Mouse and Country Mouse

of our hypothalamus.

The hats we wear have never been more substantial,

heart mantras chosen for battle, belligerence or solitude

with hues seen from a distance.

We take in long deep breaths to celebrate today,

a parasympathetic partnership, 

alleviating imagined tomorrow’s darker inspirations.

We mask ourselves in fabric

and blanket ourselves in faith,

and move, or wait.

In the months that lie before us

our anxieties will be cast like ashes on the wind,

for the tearful eyes of the lucky and the strong.