Digitalis
All my life, I have known fear.
A restless mind,
a quiet sense of ruin.
It walked beside me—faithful,
a shadow within my shadow,
warden of an unseen prison.
I was afraid.
I am still afraid.
Of whom? Of what? Since when?
At what moment
was I cast into this current?
Oh, how many faces it wears,
changing with every season of my life.
Oh, how deep her roots sink—
layered like an onion,
each ring a hidden cage.
I choke on my own fears,
walls rising too often
against the pulse of my heart—
walls that only ask
to be opened.
Yes, I tried to open them,
not knowing what would rise
from their depths.
A fractured past.
Scars that linger.
A child, lost.
Scenes that never truly faded.
I feared my fears.
And there—
in the eye of my suffering,
a fragile light flickered—
the quiet promise
of another dawn.
So I sat with them.
I let them enter my space.
Like old companions
who began on the wrong foot,
we learned to speak again—
to see,
to listen.
They met my gaze.
Sharp.
Unsettling.
Unforgiving.
A gaze heavy with forgotten truths—
truths I had buried
in silence.
I did not run.
No—not this time.
I was afraid.
Even that time.
But I stayed.
And in that discomfort,
something shifted—
keys,
quietly placed in my hands.
Keys to clarity.
To understanding.
Yes…
I learned to understand.
And then—release.
A pressure loosening,
almost imperceptible.
My heart, newly aware,
beating like the slow rise
of a distant sun.
My fears remain.
But now—
I see them.
I know them.
And they no longer crush me.
They revealed their workings,
their silent machinery,
pulling me
out of my own doubt.
Their truth—
I learned to hear it.
Their burden—
I learned to hold it.
Fear is not only a dark cavern.
It is also
the teacher of the brave.
Like Digitalis purpurea—
beautiful,
poisonous at first glance,
a quiet bearer of death…
yet within it,
the medicine of the heart.
My fears—
no longer chains.
My fears—
signals.
warnings.
Fear—
a language.
A sentence.
A shield.
A guide.
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With clarity,
The Mirror Room
Odel A.



Keys quietly placed in my hands... a soft strange image for fear, not kinder exactly, just suddenly something you can hold...
Great poem Odel. And very true. A lot of us let fear guide our lives for too long. Mine was driving. I was absolutely terrified of driving. I couldn't do it. For years. In Europe it's not too bad, but I suppose for a car-culture like America, unheard of. I'd like to say it all had a happy ending, but nope. I still don't drive. I like to think about my carbon footprint. And cycling is healthier anyway.