The wild risk calls me in, but
fear weights my ankles.
It’s that fear that has hobbled my whole life.
The fear of the unknown,
the fear of betrayal,
the fear that call will not be greater than calamity.
If I could just see to the other side and know,
and not be blocked by wood upon wood upon wood.
But I’m heading in and up,
fear in my pocket, resolve in my heart
because the wild faith-risk calls me on.
A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly Green 
Beautiful. And fear – yes – how it binds us all and wastes so much of our time!
Absolutely. It is not unfounded always, but to not “do” because of it is to miss out on God’s best.
Woah! I stumbled upon your blog as I wish I could write poems. Great piece!
Thanks! Glad you made it by.
Lovely, rhythmic and visually pleasing.
Thank you. I would have loved to capture something similar with the aspens, but couldn’t get hte man-driver to stop. 🙂
This is really beautiful because it strikes a chord in all of us. Fear of moving on, and the photo of the woods is so frightening to some, but represents a challenge and adventure to others. Much to think about in your words and in your images.
I have always loved that image of an apparent endless wood, and tentative fear is more my characteristic. Actually, when I was young I was less fearful, just more naive.
The poem and the woods capture what you say perfectly. 🙂
Thank you!
Trouble is, you can’t just look. Finding out means staying there, whether you like it or not…
As long as I have a tree house . . . 🙂
Reblogged this on Apronhead.
You make such interesting use of words, I am always impressed at your work.
Thank you.