If only they would leave me alone,
those thoughts of what might go wrong.
At each turning there’s a threat, an injury.
This is the bitterness of life.
If only I could be free of ‘what ifs’,
free to live, breathe, enjoy every minute
of my finite life, in peace.

The bird calls, the wind shakes, the land turns,
and still I worry about what’s not there –
the future that I cannot know, only guess.
And what guessing that is:
always the worst outcome, always the drama-fail.
But will I die from this?

No, but I will die in the end.
Everyone does.
Is that my bitterness?
To lose all my time on wasted emergencies,
crying wolf to myself every day?
Live now, feel now, taste now,
and know freedom.