Now I know why mountains draw me in more than the ocean. May be for that reason I rush to the Himalayas whenever I get a chance. An absolute stillness overwhelms the constantly chirping mind. I am at peace. The majestic tranquility tells me there’s nothing to fear. Why don’t the sea waters tell me that? Why do the waves pose as huge tongues to lap me up?


Is that why I love trees? Because they don’t run about and roar like the ever hungry Bengal tigers? Imagine a pine tree standing its ground in storms! Even grasses delve deep quietly into the dark soil. I find shelter in such grand stillness.


Isn’t movement graceful? Isn’t sound delightful? What is life but a rhythm with note. What’s better? To be the silver screen or the movies it shows? Or the spectator; participating in all the smiles and tears yet keeping a safe distance from the happenings simultaneously. What’s so fearsome about movement?


Yet I fear. I prefer a staircase but an escalator? Never. There’s a fear of fall that works within. Haven’t I fallen countless times when trying to ride a bicycle in my younger days? Didn’t I enjoy every struggle-moment to get onto the seat? Or am I growing a spectator mode within me? And fear is helping me to getting into that. Age is feeding the fear factor; or may be it has made me more cautious.


Life has brought me here and I don’t intend to change now. I see how every sunrise and sundown roll towards me wave like. I have neither closed my eyes nor shut my ears at their crashing and challenging noise. I don’t bathe but watch and await the grander stillness.



290 words for Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero: A Pantry of Prose, #3 ~ Phobias and Fears @ Poets United