The fear is working its way up. Like magma in a volcano slowly, surely rising, pushing, insistent, penetrating. It is that that shall not be ignored. The pressure continues its journey upward beginning low, building in its intensity. It reaches my diaphragm, constricting my breathing capacity, slicking it’s way to my core.
Here my magma of grief spills over, bubbling up in splattering bursts of hot emotion; into my throat, it’s burning coloring my cheeks in brilliant crimson as its explosive spewing is released from my eyes; a raucous, uncontrollable explosion of sadness, mixed with joy and pain spilling across the pages of my life.
Anne
February, 2021
Tripping with God: Stories of Faith and Inspiration 