face the fear
Are you afraid now?
Fear is the mentor.
I tried to grow familiar
with these trembling sensations,
an echo singing through my body.
At times, I thought nothing could reach me,
that nothing ever would.
Wouldn’t I rather sit
beside the trees at night,
sit in the darkened place—
deader than autumn leaves,
where at least all the roots gather? /
Wouldn’t I rather sit
with the song?
I am where all displacement begins,
in an instant, in contact
with all my family—who is me. /
The path fades,
and I am there,
ankle-deep in fallen leaves,
the air thick with damp earth,
like the moment after rain,
like something you forgot you needed.
I think I’m lost,
but the trees tell me otherwise:
their leaves shiver in the wind,
and the way the light bends
between their trunks
makes everything feel like a secret.
I have spent years building
a person from the dreams of others;
the scaffolding of praise, of expectation—
but here, the forest strips it away.
It strips me down to what is essential:
the sound of breath,
the pulse in my wrists,
the soft murmur of things
I buried long ago. /
When you look up,
there is only green upon green,
and a silence so deep
you could fall into it.
And so I do,
letting myself sink into the stillness,
the way a stone finds its place
at the bottom of a stream. /
It is impossible to be lost here—
you realize that now,
because where you are
is all there is,
and wherever you go, it will be the same.
Isolation is not loneliness;
it is my gift.
The chatter of the world
dissolves like ash,
leaving me here, in the clear light. /
A cold, tempered morning in the forest.
The shriek of birds and then—
three piercing notes
from a canary.
The song of nature,
a mother’s lullaby. /
My trembling body,
a road transmuted;
roots or veins.
Marie Anne Arreola is a bilingual poet, editor, and screenwriter whose work explores the entanglements between language, spirit, and digital culture. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of VOCES, a bilingual creative platform featuring over 40 interviews with international artists.