Bats

Everything is done.
Clothes washed
Kitchen clean
Lesson Plans written.
And now there is a space for nothing
So I let nothing be here.
And in it I find hope
and wishes emerging
Of a new life.
Not my will
But something far bigger.
All I have to do is
strike the steel bat at
doubts and fears
so The Hope will flood my world.

Daily, small brown-faced bats dive into my
serene world.
Their radar hears my unasked questions.
Of "why?" and "how did...?" and the ultimate
dream killer, "what if...?"
They carry a poision, that feeds my fears.
Their goal, to swoop down and bite my neck, inject
potent, concentrated fear.
Today, I am ready for them.
Because it's my world, damn it.
Not theirs!



My simple, uncluttered world.
With a wood stove
and small kitchen
and a bathtub that needs repair.
Those things don't really matter.
Because peace is not in the design
on my kitchen floor
Or the rust stained bathtub
or the hole in the shower wall.
Peace is in my heart. And it will stay there
as long as I fight to keep away
the low flying bats.
I must keep a small stick in my back pocket
to ward off those little critters.
I must go now, out into my wet, foggy
front yard, to look for a stick
to put in my back pocket.
Have a nice day.