Anthony Hanible

My Apprehension

It begins like a rite

A faint tightening of breath

A hush settling over the bones

As if the body remembers

An old instruction

The air arranges itself

Light withdraws to the corners

A stillness gathers deliberate

The way a temple gathers silence

Before an unseen God enters

My apprehension steps forward

With ceremonial patience

A figure robed in frost

Its presence marked

By the slow extinguishing

Of warmth

It traces a circle around me

Not to trap

But to consecrate

A boundary drawn

In cold intention

I feel it anoint my sternum

With its glacial touch

A blessing or a warning

I cannot tell

Only that it knows me

And has known me

Longer than breath

Some nights it chants

Through the marrow

A low vibration

That turns the dark

Into a chamber of initiation

Tonight it stands before me

Waiting for the moment

I lower my head

And acknowledge

What has already begun

The quiet ceremony

Of fear becoming form