When I was a young girl
I would dream of witches:
Haggard cackling monsters laughing
At my mundane stumbling through life.
I remember being so scared when a friend told me,
After the confession of my love of spiders,
That only witches love spiders:
I trembled as I saw myself growing older
Darker, more wicked and cried.
Now that I am older:
A Witch -
But none too dark -
I laugh at the the old fears
Of the monster I was afraid to become.
Now my nightmares
Are friends, companions,
Blithe, laughing spectres;
Finding humor in the rediculous uncertainty of life.
Some days I wonder if fears
Are merely doors -
That open to the dreams
We so secretly desire…