With what my eyes have seen, the fields are lush. The streams are tiding from east to west. The moonlit sky migrating to a horizon. Buffalos hurdle to hide in caves. And sparrows high up the myrtle tree sings a song I fear.
A narrow window ajar, bright lights filtering through. I’ve come too far, not by my strength alone. One step heavier than the next, as though both feet were shackled to an anchor. Can’t see past my index finger. And I…
I should be very afraid.
The word FEAR keeps coming back around. Ironic how a simple four lettered word could cast so much shadow, it even holds power over identity, flashing a casted silhouette of doubt as an estranged former lover.
I am afraid
but what good would that do?
I can’t predict what’s engraved in the sands that fall through the Hourglass. I can’t speak incantations into the Wind and expect to extract a fortune. I can’t squeeze all that I am and serve to the universe on a platter. And I don’t.
I have a God that eradicates fear.