Tag Archives: fear

LIGHT UP

Photo by William Melvin, April 2025

I am made of stardust

lit by sunlight.

Like lilies of the field

I dig deep into earth

with my toes.

Like birds of the air

I soar on currents stirred

when heat meets cold.

I seek. I soar. I laugh out loud.

I raise my face to the sun.

I dance in moonlight.

My spirit takes flight.

I grow strong.

My beauty abounds.

As earth, my earth

turns round and round.

Time has no meaning

I have found

except to tether my hopes

that change comes around

when most desired,

bright with sounds

of laughter, and courage

unleashed and unbound.

Rejoice in the day,

the month and the year

but stay in the moment.

Have no fear.

Photo by William Melvin, April 2025

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I AM CLEAR NOW

Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.com

I no longer awaken thinking I had died during the night. 

No more heavy weight in my chest dragging breath down.

No more lead-bottomed stomach trying to turn fear over.

No more panic tightening limbs positioned to run.

No more thinking  thoughts unable to connect.

I am clear now.

Righteous anger replaces my new-found ability to hate.

Courage courses through veins relieved of pain.

Love for others suffering alongside me on common ground abounds.

A coalition of resistance finds strengthened legs and spine.

Brains calm and stay alert and plan how to go up and not down.

I am clear now.

I see the game to disarm and disarray all opposition.

I see the realization victory by evil forces always subsides.

I see the ability of good hearts to speed the failure along.

I see creativity lead ideas ahead, instead of repeating past retreats.

I am clear now.

Here.

Now.

Let me show you.

Together.

 We can move mountains

of greed and fear and doubt.

I am clear now.

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SWEET LITTLE OLD LADIES

Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com (THIS IS NOT MY NEIGHBOR…LAnnarino)

This is the face of white supremacy,

the sweet little old lady

who lives down the street from me.

She praises the Walz-Harris and 

Sherrod brown signs in my yard.

She gleefully says they make her happy.

I offer the extra signs I have to put in her yard.

She gracefully declines, “my family

would make it hard on me.

Photo by Life Matters on Pexels.com

“So, your family bullies you,” I reply.

Taken aback I watch her smile fade.

“Yes,” she says,” I suppose that’s true.”

“It is just that Black people are so…”

her hands in the air waving away thought…

“They want to take over the country, but ought not.”

“Do you hear what some white people shout,

about taking over government to have their way?

Do you fear them taking over the country?” I say.

A look of confusion crosses her face.

I ask if she thinks every white or Black person

is the same, and if blanket descriptions are really O.K.

This sweet little face now looks away.

Then turns with a frown and admits it’s unfair.

I have family who are MAGA, too, I explain.

If they do not like my signs I simply reply

that they should put out their own signs

and take responsibility for their incivility.

She tells me she is really afraid,

for once glad to be old with death on its way.

I remind her of all dangers she has faced.

I smile and encourage her to take her place

among our past heroes who gave voice to renew

the promise of America for me and for you.

I promise her she is stronger than even she knows,

that together we are strong enough to fight any foe.

I remind her everyone fears what the future portends

She nods and she smiles but her eyes tell a different story

She yearns for the time when being white

meant she could claim control and full glory.

I am an old white lady, but have never been sweet.

Being real is neither pretty nor neat.

I handle truth in its complexity,

dirtying my hands and feet

placing signs in my yard,

refusing to give in to hate and racism.

Ugly truth-teller is my only “ism”.

Silence is complicity.

Fear and hate do not deserve pity.

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WAKE UP THE YOUNG

Photo by Mark Angelo Sampan on Pexels.com

The older I get

the harder it becomes to

carry heavy hearts.

Young hearts are heavy

these days of heatwaves, flooding

and fires of war.

My own heart has slowed,

unable to speed or race,

beating a steady pace.

The young run shouting,

fueled by alcohol and fun,

circling around me.

I try to tell them,

straighten your path toward the goal,

a race to be won.

I shout from the sidelines

loss of freedom is gaining

on you, as you play.

Age carries no weight.

My words tossed away as trash,

as victory fades fast.

Woke becomes useless

for the young who sleep too late.

Please, now, come awake!

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KEEP ON ROLLING

Photo by miniperde on Pexels.com

Life is a circle

which rolls back along itself

in never-ending movement,

its motion so slow

we cannot see where it goes.

But going forward it is.

It reaches goals a mile a minute,

gaining speed on downward slopes.

Only then do we notice

the movement at all.

We roll with the punches

over new terrain,

fearing any moment we may fall.

But the circle keeps on rolling,

circling from beginning to end

then back again, moving forward 

all the while, where wheels 

are allowed to move freely.

There are those whose lack

of courage and curiosity

try to put on the brakes

and stop life’s relentless spin

into the future we cannot see,

looking backward as the wheel

spins forward over and over again.

Their fear grows with each 

forward motion

drowning in an ocean

of doubt and uncertainty.

They confuse beginnings with ends.

It is difficult to see

when so small we all be.

we look right and we look left;

too small to see

a wheel as large as infinity.

But never doubt, my friends.

We keep on rolling, rolling, rolling

moving forward over and over again.

Our progressive movement

is not a fall, 

from  grace; 

we are always in

the best place;

This time is simply

a new start after all.

We shall come through

as we always do

to new places

with new faces

new beginnings

that never end

but circle on,

and on again.

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BEHOLD THE SKY

Photo by Max Andrey on Pexels.com

The river of color flows through the sky

weaving its way beneath and between

all that is seen and unseen.

Undulations of colors entwine 

the energy of the divine

with the hopes of humankind.

We fear the sky’s fall

bending our knees

hiding our eyes,

until we lose sight

of the wonder of it all.

Motion and change delight

and yet, we cannot grasp hold

of what is before our sight.

And this loss of control over the diversity 

and complexity of colorful skies

entraps and belies

a sense of self so small

it frightens us all.

The skies are not falling

simply because its colors shift.

The movement within the sky

can never send us adrift.

Gravity holds us all together,

keeps us spinning, it is true;

but, never allows us to go too far, too fast. 

It helps make the moments last

until we can understand

what we stand under,

an open sky which belongs to all.

Look up and behold the sky.

Reach up to touch the clouds.

Dance in the wind, bathe in the rain.

Never lose hope ever again.

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HIDDEN TRUTHS

Photo by Brett Jordan on Pexels.com

On the lintel stone

of my grade school

above the entrance

children passed through

every day,

after we left church

where we gathered to pray,

were the words to guide us through

childhood to adulthood as the

the good sisters would say:

“Ye shall know the truth

and the truth shall set you free.”

Those words I reviewed

each night before I slept,

an examination of conscience

of my personal truth;

what I had done that day,

who I had shown myself to be,

to myself and others

I had met along the way.

Uneasy truths rose in my mind

of tasks left undone

so I could play;

unmet needs of others

who got in my way;

truths I wished would go away

so I could pretend to be

someone so much better

than you, and better than me.

It is not others we fear.

We only fear who we are,

deep inside 

where our truth resides.

So, we hide away from ourselves

and fear discovery

that we are truly

not enough:

not good enough,

not strong enough,

not smart enough,

not wise enough,

not wealthy enough,

not educated enough,

not employed enough,

not courageous enough

to examine our conscience;

to own our thoughts and deeds,

to own our responsibility,

to own our need for love,

for passion,

for resilience,

for endurance,

for persistence.

Better to take time

to watch the game,

to drink at the bar,

to take the drug,

to avoid all blame

for what we refuse

to give away.

And the only way 

this fraud can continue

is to become a con

like so many others.

Great con men become

our saving heroes

and allow us to blame

all The Others

in their name.

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SATURDAY MORNING ON TRIAL

KRONOS/SATURN by Peter Paul Rubens , Public Domain

Saturday  morning;

dawn rises on a new day.

Saturn’s history at play

beyond ancient Rome’s sway.

We wonder if he will be made to pay

for destroying Saturnalia’s gifts.

This is no  Christian’s Christmas Day

created to hide his pagan ways.

This Saturnus is defective ,made of clay

which changes shape day after day.

Inside the gas giant on display

in the heavens worlds away

raging storms churn and flay

rallying followers 

drawn by his magnetic field

into icy rings that circle and shield

this Titan who seeks to wield

total power over the field;

not of wheat and grass and grain,

but of institutions threatened again

by fear and hate and retribution.

That is this Titan’s contribution.

He threatens every man, woman and child.

He devours even his infant son

held in his own arms but seen as a threat

to his control and power

which he worries over hour after hour.

This defective Saturn’s trials have just begun.

We wonder if courts will justice deal

before the Titan destroys all we love

because he cannot love, but only fear.

November votes bring new beginnings.

We can choose decency with heart;

choose freedom and love, or our end is near.

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WRITING ON THE WALL

Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com

The swastika was painted on the outside gym wall.

Underneath the words

“Die, fish eaters, die.”

Anti-semitism is broad

and crosses lines

in so many ways.

Victims are sought among Jews,

Catholics, and Romany, too.

No one is excused

from the hate and need to show

that the hater is bigger, stronger,

in control of a world

they feel is out-of-control.

Seeing hate painted on my school

was frightening to see but not the end

of the feelings inside, the birth of my pride.

Cowards in the night sent me such fright.

Unleashing their hate, leashed my own.

There is no place for hate 

in my world, nor yours.

Cowards and bullies never win.

They always over-extend.

Hate destroys them from the inside, not out.

Love builds up inside their victims, then out

it flows to every other sister and brother.

What do I know?

What do I fear?

Not a swastika, nor white hood.

I fear those who refuse to do good;

who remain silent and unmoving

in the face of a racism, sexism,

anti-semitism and hate speech;

who laugh at jokes meant to harm and disarm;

who refuse to recognize the alarm

screaming in protest and marching along

streets paved with prejudice and fear.

Who see the writing on the wall

and walk away to gated communities

and streets paved with gold.

They allow the old stories to take hold.

I walk the streets where the injured gather

amid the brave souls who know what matters,

and protect those under attack.

The brave who insist we take truth and love back.

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BORN IN THE USA

Photo by Daniel Bendig on Pexels.com

Being born in the USA

does not make me better.

It makes me luckier.

Winning the lottery

brings euphoria.

Sharing the winnings

brings me satisfaction.

That is love in action.

My question is always

one taught me by JFK.

Not, “what can my country 

do for me?”.

But, “what can I do 

for my country?”

The only way

to make America better

is to remind myself

I do not matter

more than any other 

American, immigrant

or refugee.

I do not matter 

more than any other

African, Asian, Latino

nor European.

Each of us hopes to be free.

Each of us has our own journey.

Some of us are luckier than others.

All of us are sisters and brothers.

My country is better

when I am better, kinder, truer

to the home of the brave

and the land of the free

where democracy demands

I stay on guard against those

who would embrace autocracy.

This is what America asks of me.

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