Be Not Afraid


"Fear for your souls!" shout the dark Mantra Kings,
In speech devised to gather up gold things
For placing in carved chests behind strong walls.
Oh, to hear bright trumpets blast their bleak halls!

Blind to each pious eye looking askance,
Merchants of the soul's survival deny the dance
Unless they call the tune and charge a fee
To those forced to purchase what ought to be free.

See for yourself what a flower can mean;
Leap to your own tunes through meadows of green.
Lock out all lies of darkness and doom—
Carry lit candles, dispelling the gloom.

If from your God you wish not to part,
Hold on to the truth and sing from your heart.
Sing of the things from which little kings shrink;
Be not afraid to let yourself think!


©2016 Michael Fraley




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