Superman

Superman
 
No man, not even Superman
Is immunized to fear. When your
Cape is in the laundry, you have to step
Forward as the mortal you are, kryptonite
On the inside, burning like coal.
You body needs to carry every carriage, every organ,
Connected together by the embroidery
Of blood vessels and nerves.
You realize then that what the brand Nike
Promotes, is seizing the hour, by just doing it,
With no fear ambushing every act
Of transcendence. In that bridge
Between anticipation and conclusion,
Is when, you put your best foot forward,
In spite of the brewing anxiety, your kryptonite.
 
And we are all phobics of something
Or the other, some misophobic, fear of dust,
Some heights, acrophobic, and just
Like that man Superman, we are all,
Fighting our inner demons, learning
That fear doesn’t immobilize you
To a place and time, only catches you off guard, when in
That anticipated moment, you go beyond
Clark Kent, to be the man who dons the cape,
Without realizing its not flying next to a train,
That defines Superman, but
How he emerges from the shell,
Like a snail, a gastropod, who takes
The difficult way out, exposed
Of all his frailties.
 
Fear is looking at a picture,
Murphy’s law portrayed all over,
And still letting go of your kryptonite,
Making the hour count. Carpe diem
Is not for the faint hearted, only
For those who are comfortable
In their exposed drawers,
Those supermen, whose nerves,
At extenuating circumstances,
Become a stubborn make,
Of the truest grit.
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