I try and rise above the fear-induced fog in my mind br Above the lemon-rind bitterness that loving and leaving br Leaves behind, residual regret resounds off the walls br Of my aching but throbbingly alive consciousness br Cool clear skies beckon with the promise of freedom br Of clarity, peace of mind, rare insight and flight br But my attachment to the past is cemented br Like the stubborn slivers that truss the clam to its shell br And the barnacle to its rock, calm reason and stock taking br Do not help sever these ties that bind and gag but only drag br Me deeper down into the morass – steaming, fuming br With noxious odors and malodorous vapors br That simply swell the fog to cumbersome proportions br Rise I will though, buoyed by the spirit within my very cells br Ringing with life and the promise that the future holds many surprises br “The universe is filled with magical things waiting for us mortals to sharpen our wits” br br (28th April,2001)br br Simona Terronbr br