classic post: prayer for radical courage (audio poetry 3:27)

Anytime I feel that I have nothing left to write,
I am reminded that most of what I do is timeless.
This prayerpoem was posted most recently in late 2013.
Joan of Arc’s famous words:
“I am not afraid. I was born for this.”

“Joan of Arc” by Harold Hume Piffard, c.1895

in all things, may i travel unarmored and unafraid,
settled into a quiet cradle
whose gentle sway bears the mark of the mother’s hand

let my mind be emptied of false truths and accusations
stripped free of nagging encumbrance
my essence naked and alive in original, unswaddled glory

if i am called to a gate that refuses to open,
let me turn peaceably in another direction
and be piloted by the stars that illumine my oft-weary soul

if the storms of liberation demand that no prisoners be taken,
let me raise the sword of truth with clear-eyed compassion
for myself and those with whom i can walk no longer

grant me the steadfast courage to endure this long, unwinding dance
to remain unassailed amid the dizzying of the everyday,
to sift through an onslaught of disconcordant ambiguity
until i discover in its silken folds the glimmer of the familiar
as it beckons my heart toward home,
allow me to hear my name sung in tones adamantine
and to answer with the radiant grace of ten thousand suns

in all things, let me unflinchingly distinguish the real from the unreal
loosen that which aches to be untied and tether the hitherto unsustainable,
relinquish lingering hypnosis to fresh wind and flowing sails
and the resurrection of all once thought dead and gone

if unbridled courage be the blossom of an irrepressible heart,
let me whisper sweet, sad goodbyes to the old
and issue fervent welcome to the new,
let me be strong and wise and sufficiently unsettled
that i may revision and revolutionize the very underpinning
of my unquenchable, exquisite design

in all things, may my spirit offer up a refuge
where courage can take root and thrive,
where i may lower a smooth-edged plow into fertile emptiness
and be pleased by whatever greets me
in the dew of an immaculate morn

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