To have no fear

 

Picasso, The Youth Cirle, 1961

Once upon a time I had no fear
Running was a galloping horse in wind
My mane of hair flowing behind me.
 
Now it takes courage to walk and climb stairs
Moving forward is a snail in a headwind
My head bent over so I can’t see.
 
I am old.  My fear is a soft wariness,
but for too many people, fear is hard,
walking takes courage, and risks death.
 
I ask, for me, what takes more courage:
joining street protests or staying indoors?
One endangers me, one leaves me all alone.
 
I stay home where teams write letters.
and I write poems. Both take courage
not to censure, to trust the power of words.
 
To send them where they need to go
despite the streams of too many words—
blogged, streamed, performed, printed.
 
Courage comes from cor, or heart in Latin.
I take heart, then, that words of care will
march into the front lines from home.
 
I pray that words will make holes in 
use of weapons, killing of children,
food and water scarcity, rape of earth.
 
I pray words help children run like the wind,
but in play, not in fear.  I pray that everywhere
people may walk free and fearlessly.

For my prompt "Courage / Fearlessness" at What's Going On? 

 

My blog poems are rough drafts.

Please respect my copyright.

© 2025 Susan L. Chast