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Crazy Fear

Dogs pulling sled in winter: The Poetry of Life

It is that gentle persuasion of dread.

The gnawing in the pit of one’s gut

that things will go awry.

It can scream at us, fighting for its own survival.

It is the lead wolf snarling and licking its chops.

It travels far and near. It cannot rest.

It watches and waits.

It is tone-deaf to reason.

It flies in the face of all logic

to find a home in our sinew and senses.

It traces its bony fingers through the hair

of our memories and our future.

It is our mate on ventures into the unknown.

It lies to us, caresses us, tells us we are weak.

It convinces us that someone else

must complete the journey.

Fear resides on the hardscrabble shores of our life.

It licks like fire at the soft wooden resin of our

ambitions, hopes, and dreams.

It will cripple as it attempts,

in its wayward way, to mend.

It is both ghastly and ghostly.

It is a gifted Lippizaner cantering

in rhyme with the music.

Its mighty flanks will crush us

against the boards of our desires.

We must float lightly.

We must gather in its message,

bend to its hopes,

Watch over the mystery.

Embrace the deeper melodies

of our hearts.

We must not falter.

We must enjoin and tell ourselves

and the world

we will not drift

into obscurity.

That wolf snarling must be subdued,

not with a club but with firm assurance.

We are yet still masters.

We must stand over it,

hear its guttural warnings,

feel the cool ruff of its neck

as fur clasps in our hands.

We must stare it in the eye

and say, “Not today.”

Tomorrow may be yet another opportunity,

Another opening when our backs are turned.

But right now, in this encounter,

we must be the alpha,

the lead dog, the one

in front on the traces!

Sniffing out home,

finding direction,

knowing where

danger lurks.

The rest of our pack-dogs will follow.

Beneath the soft light of the moon,

the harshness of the cold,

the bitterness of the day,

we are the ones that must

bring order to a vast land.

A wilderness of our own making.

Huskie dog in traces: The Poetry of Life

John Bragstad is the author of two books: Compass Season and The Poetry of Life: Who's Watching Who? Both are available at Amazon and in local Grand Marais book stores.

Special thanks to Pixabay for the photos.

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