it’s been one of the tougher days.
I won’t get into the details of the event,
because they tend to be similar across time,
generally founded by and grounded in
a misère brought about by fears, real ones even,
if you peel away the messes.
there’s always the issue behind the issue
with matters of destruction and disrespect.
but on evenings like this,
I get to make my own choice:
do I play along and earn a large
community of similar voices
and stencilled answers?
or do I let it sink in
that one of the oldest collections of books
has Fear Not imprinted on its pages 365 times,
one reminder per day over the course of a year?
and what implications will that have,
and am I ready to leap?
I am going to let that sink in.
and while I am at it,
I’m going to put on that old blues
written by folks facing their fears
with art and music and selflessness
at the cost of poverty or isolation.
there, I shall seek comfort
until a new morning is granted to all of us,
as gracefully as we let it.
and then I’ll show up again
and again and again
seeking to do the work I am called to do
until things start to make more sense and meaning
just that tad bit more.