Written for dVerse Quadrille #37, Be Not Afraid.
Bridging Fear
Wine betters with age
Not so fear
intensifying yearly.
In nightmares impossibly tall
bridges span gaping chasms
taper to a two-by-four
the ocean below
white caps, gnashing
like teeth intreating
transfers to waking
as my clammy hands
struggle to grip the wheel
and drive.
end 7/31/2017
Sascha Darlington
Aged fears can be the worst, but I’ve learned that they sometimes die an early death before we reach our own demise.
I’m dealing with mine by avoidance. Driving across low bridges doesn’t bother me, thankfully, as commuting would be a REAL nightmare. π I’m not quite sure how to deal with the tall ones that once drove over. I somehow think closing my eyes wouldn’t be a good idea. π
I think you might be right there. One of my biggest fears was always water, but 3 years ago I overcame it through lots of prayer and determination so that I could snorkel in Hawaii. Memorizing Phil. 4:6-7 was a big help.
Thanks. I’ll look at this.
I would find it fearful walking on a two by four over a chasm. If the fear cam when I was driving I would be additionally afraid of an accident.
Thank you, Frank. π
I don’t really like bridges either. I don’t know if it is fear, but maybe. Nicely none.
Thank you. π
The wine contast is terrific! You explore this fear effectively (she says, wiping her palms).
Thanks, Jilly! π
I like the determination in that last stanza. Moving forward, in the face of fear.
Thank you! π
I share your fear of long bridges over water. The bridge over Tampa Bay in Florida gives me the vapors. Good write.
I’ve passed by that one but not driven over it.
Thanks! π
An interesting take on the nightmare fears that precede the waking reality fears. Some fears do intensify with years… just not the fear of appearing inappropriate. I’ve encounter quite a few seniors who… haven’t lost their filters… they’ve intentionally thrown them away… along with the fear of public speaking!
Actually I think that’s great to lose that self-consciousness. Probably one of the best things about getting older.
Either that or an excuse to be mean, slightly ajar, or inappropriate. π
lol that too
In 1986, I went to El Salvador at the height of the civil war to nurse the wounded after a horrible earthquake. I had to walk across a railroad bridge over a deep gully to get to my patients who lived in the bottom of a deep ravine. Today, reading your poem, or anytime I think back on that experience, my palms sweat. This all is to say, your poem created a very tangible response for me.
Thank you.
What an experience that must have been as a whole, Victoria. Have you written about it?
I wrote an article back when I returned and then I have written about in a few poems posted on dVerse. If you searched “El Salvador” on my blog, you could find them. If I weren’t hosting, I’d look for them for you.
No worries. I’ll search. π
As I age, vertigo seems to intensify while on bridges, especially those tall ones that span drop-offs of hundreds of feet. Fear often populates your dreams. Nightmares emerge like thunder storms sometimes.
Those last two lines are poetry, Glenn.
I blame my dreams. π
Ugh, I have driving anxiety, too, though I hate to admit it. I read that fears will only go away if you confront them but I don’t wanna. Thanks for being open about this in your poetry. Nicely done!
Fear does intensify if it’s never addressed. Beautiful poem. π
Thanks, Desiree! And, you’re right. It does. Now to alleviate. π
That’s palpable fear, like a Hitchcock novel! Whoa
Poetry brings up a lot of inner stuff. This is so true. As we age, we’re not force to get out and confront our fears so they just mount – until even leaving the house is frightening. It sneaks up on us.
Thanks for reading! π
“Wine betters with age
Not so fear
intensifying yearly.”
I couldn’t agree more…
Thank you.
I’m struck by the ending of your post here….just grip the wheel and drive…as in, move right through it. Someone famous (Winston Churchill?) said, if you’re going through hell, keep going!
I like that quote!
Thanks for reading, Lillian!
Your nightmare is described well and scary. No wonder it has a presence in the light of day.
Thank you, Janice.
Fascinating foray into fears dreamed and waked. I always think that our fear has a story for us, a message if you like. Bridges are a powerful metaphor.
Thanks, Paul.
Your comment is thought-provoking as I usually don’t investigate my fears through writing and perhaps I should.
That sort of writing is useful to me, mostly in journal form. Occasionally something from there finds its way into a poem. The idea of looking at fear to listen to it’s voice is something I came cross through the writing of a Buddhist nun called Pema Chodron. Worth a shufties.
I have seen that name before. Ah, google provided: When Things Fall Apart. I think I’ve had that on my reading list. I used to write better poetry when I journaled, something about holding a pen on paper rather than using a computer.
I’ll move that book up on my reading list. Thanks for the name.
I think the answer is in your title. Bridging fear with humor is the way I do it. Laugh in the face of fear, even if you have to pretend at first. Grab that steering wheel and belt out a laugh, sing a happy tune. Reading material on the subject and journaling are wonderful ways to take control of the steering wheel. My thoughts. π
I will try that on an increasing scale. Thanks!
The first three lines speak to me.
Thanks!
I didn’t see that coming. Driving fears are somewhat distant to me since I don’t drive. But the long, high bridged scared me straight since childhood. Especially in those dark days when you can’t tell time.
yikes, dark days and bridges.
Thanks for reading! π