When I say "fearless," I don't mean people who have no fears. Everybody has fears. Jesus Christ, in the Garden of Gethsemane, had doubts and fears. Yet, He put those feelings into God's hands. That's what fearless people do. They walk through their fears, trust in their higher power.
To be without fear is stupid. To let fear rule your life is equally stupid. I think that fearless people embrace their fears and turn them into something else. Stepping stones, maybe. Gates to pass through. Roads to walk down.
Today's poem is about a fearless man. Malcolm X. In the poem, Malcolm contemplates all the hatred and cruelty he's experienced in his life. Yet, he doesn't let himself be defined by those things. Instead, he turns to love, even though he knows death is out in the dark street, gun in hand, waiting for him.
Saint Marty tries to be fearless. Not sure he actually achieves it, though.
Malcolm X, February 1965
by: E. Ethelbert Miller
i will die this month. how
i do not know. still there
is much work to be done. i
am afraid not for myself but
for betty and the girls. some
nights i stay awake looking
out the window, a gun in my
hand. i know how cruel people
can be. i have known hatred and
blindness. there are brothers
waiting to do me harm. i will
die for them. i will love them
as only i can. may allah be my
witness.
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