A Poem on Fury

I wrote this poem a few years ago.  The feelings were the same last week.  I’m thankful for the healing ways of beloved friends and family.

Clumsy feelings I possess-
They touch and torch with indiscriminate fancy.
A riot of emotions erupts within me,
Rustling untamed, unbridled
Like flustered creatures
trapped in steel cages.

When expressed, my joy can cheer
and my sympathy can heal.
My anger destroy;
my sadness spoil.
My tongue bows to each sensation of the moment,
Powerless when pathos dawns with whistling fury.

But can anger cheer
and sadness heal?
“Of course not,” I hear,
“those affections spew bitter poison.”

Yet a True Man feels my rage
and absorbs my wrath,
Rejecting not the noise of troubled sentiments,
But calmly soothing and quieting the riot
while distilling my pain.

Transform my manner of fervor to words.
Make it free but controlled,
True but gracious.
May I not bow to ardor
that teeters and turns,
But may I bow to Love
That teaches my excitable heart to walk exactly.

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