Passing through

Am I fearful?
No.
Am I fearful?
No.
Am I fearful?
Maybe.
Am I fearful?
Maybe, maybe.
Am I fearful?
Yes.

It’s painful, it’s shattering to admit. Your roar reaches my little ears as you flow your mighty waves towards, as you surge higher and nearer. Your immensity, in shattering honesty, terrifies me. I weep intensely in this cinematic confession. I can’t stop. I cry in the warmth of my clothing. I see your curve following me to reach a space, an intimate distance between, to be with me, to be one. Do I know how? This is nebulous, this is colossal. I am scared. Yes. Yes, I am fearful.

And then the calm arrives.