Even the bravest know fear in the night.
James Bond shuddered before he went into
the dark ocean, then sank five fathoms down
to swim above the coral with the eels.
Julian of Norwich crafted her prayer
against anxiety, while safely walled
away from the world. In the night,
moth’s wings startle against a cheek
almost asleep; a mosquito buzzes
in the echoing tunnel of an ear;
small scurrying creatures scramble
in the kitchen, sounding almost
like someone scratching at the door.
All will be well. In the dark night,
the rocking chair forgets to creak,
the windows ache so thickly they could crack.
In the stillness, a tickling hair, a drop.
All will be well, all will be well.