The Shapes Of Dread Poem by RIC BASTASA

I've known some shapes of dread,
someone tells me, i can always decide
against dread, or erase fear,

that i can be a magician, and then
be confident again,
as easy as waving a magic wand
where rabbits suddenly come out
from my black hat,

i confront dread, i paint fear
i have them all in canvass
with all the colors that i choose
mostly shades only of black and white
and too preoccupied with the
circles of the mind
like the scream of the mouth
the shock in the eyes
the breaking of the ears

i put them all in the gallery
of my days and someone comes along
glossy with youth and vibrant with
inexhaustible energy
surging like a waterfall
from the sky
a tornado of force

and with calmness and perhaps paying
respect for my efforts,
a scrutiny is made with gentleness
touching the texture of the paint
and admiring the etches of
gray and spots of emotions still
on the cloth,

he quips, ' amazing pain,
what grace! what bless! '

there is this sense of humility in me
this regret why despair is there
when in fact, it would have been unnecessary
and i could have moved on with my life
with so much ease, verve and like a tornado
i could have destroyed them all
and never come back for anyone or
anything else....