December 23, 2018Your Fear
Now ask yourself—who might it serve that you
would grow downhearted? What do you choose
to see? What will your seeing make? The “news”
selected and relayed, mirrored and soon
a billion times its weight, weighs on the mind
that seeks it out. What is the new? The breath
just drawn, the thought not yet enfleshed, the kind
word being said, the stars that press unseen
overhead. “It is the unforeseen
upon which,” Poe said, “we must calculate
most largely.” Impossible to separate
misery and joy—the living edge of mystery.
Time’s unfolding, dauntless, holds you dear.
The universe has no need of your fear.
from Poets Respond