10am: I Chose to Feel Alive

Hi everyone, this is a poem that'll hopefully be part of an anthology I have in mind. For context, I'm slightly scared of the dark but an event last week helped me to overcome this.

10PM: I Chose To Feel Alive

Dark. Much darker than usual,

For this time of day.

Large clouds covered the sky,

The only remaining light

An orange candle-blaze over the sea.

        Visual Snow,

                      Static Silhouettes,

My sight was failing me. 

Jump at the slightest noise.

Was someone watching me?

Am I safe?

Yet, I’m in my back garden,

There’s no way in, so then,

Why am I so afraid?

The scent of buddleia fell,

From the air to my nose. 

My sense of smell,

That usually lies dormant awakens. 

The fear begins to quell. 

My ears also open, 

Water droplets falling from leaf to ground,

The beating of insects’ wings, woven

Into the night’s song, to which the bushes dance.

My footsteps lighten, as I listen to a silent world’s voice.

Nose pointed to the ground, like a wild wolf,

As I stroll back down the lawn,

The grounding scents of earth, grass,

The touch of cool air on my face reborn,

As if I’d never noticed it before. 

Although I couldn’t see, my other senses thrived.

Fear long forgotten as I chose instead to feel alive.