It is all I can say in the face of death and in the face of fear.
Fear, our worst enemy, which has taught us that life is still possible.
Even with everything we can't understand.
Even when so much has seemingly been torn away from us.
Even having conquered death, fear becomes our stalker.
It eats at our being, stealing our resolve.
It eats at our resolve, stealing our courage.
It eats at our courage, stealing our will.
And yet we face fear daily anyway.
With eyes of steel we face it.
It never goes away except when you face it.
And then somehow it vanishes only to appear somewhere else the next day.
It is a very mysterious experience
That fear has so strong a grasp
Yet so weak a presence
That it is here for such a short time.
What sort of divine trick is fear?
While it is here it is all consuming.
But it disappears quite completely
When we focus on it strongly.
Does this heart live on fear?
Is it made of fear?
Does fear make it's home in my heart?
Maybe it likes it there where it is warm and cozy.
Or is fear in the mind?
Stalking the corner of my doubt
The uncertain twin of my suspicion
The questionable ancestor of hatred?
Do I fear with my mind or my heart?
Does fear begin with weakness or with strength?
Where does it come from and where does it go?
And if it is gone, why does it come back time and time again?
Perhaps it is the nature of our world
Yet thoughts of Love can chase it away.
Thoughts of belonging do make it recede.
But then we are all full of fear awaiting the arrival of it.
And yet Love is said to conquer all in the end.
As certain as the Sun rises.
As certain as the Moon rises.
Where Love is real, fear cannot exist.