Transform-A-Poem™ Number Fourteen

After the storm, the calm.
It’s difficult to turn the adrenaline off.

Feeling safe is a lost art.
It seems like something’s wrong.

The swirling, noisy turbulence is familiar.
The fight-or-flight response is a high.

If we stop defending ourselves
… we will disappear.
The adrenaline holds our molecules together.

Life has lost the rhythm of the wave.
It’s full speed, straight ahead or nothing.

When did we lose respect for nothing.
Nothing wraps us in a blanket
… and lets us feel our soul.
Who exactly is the constant enemy?
Why are they attacking us?
Did we ever know?

The storm subsides and we’re more afraid.
It’s difficult to turn the adrenaline off.

Copyright © 2009 Anna Jedrziewski

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