A friend sent me this poem she wrote and it was such an accurate description of irrational anxiety and couched in this current season, that I had to share.
Fear flushes out all else,
Leaving only a wiry ball of instinct
Poking at the inside of my abdomen.
Autumn leaves skitter across the pavement,
Like nervous squirrels terrorized by the thought of owls.
The susurrous shadows stalking me
Reach with their branching fingers
To run a chill up my spine,
And are briefly held at bay by the street lamps.
If I go far enough–into the unknown,
I may be swallowed by the darkness,
No deliverance but to endure until dawn.
I may fail.
The fear may send me scurrying home.
I may not be enough.
I keep walking anyway.
If I fail, it will not be because I was too afraid to try.
We must brave the nights to deserve the days.