There is no need to walk with sword drawn.
You can unclench your fist.
And your jaw? Let it relax and float.
Send the dogs back to kennel and leave the gate.
Look at you.
Such a state.
My dear friend, you are not under attack.
Believe me, you were not born to manifest fear,
And yet you are simply dripping with it.
I have seen your hardness, your posturing,
'Heard you revving your engine, your chariot
Laden with stickers and magnets;
"Support This," and "Fight That."
Signs on your lawn that show you belong;
Let you be confrontational.
So, you are a force to be reckoned with.
But somehow this does not help you sleep.
My friend, I know you can rage.
I have seen you charge and bluster.
But consider, for a moment;
Consider the pounding waterfall, churning and boiling,
Trying to cleave the Earth; to drive right through.
But at its core, it seeks to soften to the most delicate,
Consider the gales, invisible tyrants racing to level the horizon;
Winds that succumb to the sensual delight of their
Quintessence; the softest, most delicate breezes.
And consider just beyond the bellows,
Beyond the torched houses, consumed forests;
And bursting forth at lightning's whim,
The ravenous fire; a beast that leaps and rolls, screaming fury,
And yet, at its core is the most beautiful, delicate flame;
Bewildering as it balances; a teardrop on a candle,
Gently weaving and dancing, so happy to simply glow.
You too have a tender aim. So leave off your chase for a time, and
Summon, instead, the quiet flame you have hidden inside,
Locked so tight that you have forgotten what you were protecting.
Let it up to air and you will find that its warmth, its glow,
Even from something so small,
Is more powerful in its grace than any
Flexing muscle or shattering strike.
And perhaps, with a simple nod, sans twisting or strategy,
You might happily jettison your posturing and magnets,
Pull up your lawn signs, and wonder, as you
Retire to easy slumber,
What all that fear was about in the first place.