The Mirror of Fear
What is fear?
Fear is not an itsy bitsy spider or a snake.
It is in this mirror, so look inside.
See yourself as thoughts.
Thoughts can have claws
That grasp your eyes,
Forcing you to see
Only shadows and suspicions as Truth.
Fears can lay claim to you –
If you are in wakeful slumber –
And discolor the Light
Streaming from your eyes,
Blinding you to
What is Law,
What is Truth
What is Blessed
Unless you awaken to the knowing that
Fearful thoughts may birth a Monster,
Growing eight legs,
Crawling into your Self,
And making webs
That bind your heart to
Trap vermin, for at the very least,
Fear will make a feast of you.
Fear mouths caustic and corrosive words
Spiraling into smoke upwards from fire,
Becoming tentacles of lightning
Splitting your House in half and
Consuming your Buddha Soul.
But Fear will claim you had set this blaze, not she,
For she is the Great Manipulator.
Fear is Ego, the Beast,
Fed by her friends who are
Complicit in heinous actions and betrayals of you
Regardless of color, station, or creed.
Though in words the Beast is the Richest,
The Biggest, the Best, the Most High.
Ego is deaf to all but to her own voice.
She clamors with empty notes of grandiosity,
Unblessed streams of cacophonous disharmony
Wailed in false-etto.
She mesmerizes you into chanting her name, for
Ego loves her own soul and possibly
Those dressed in her image, for
Who else could she trust?
And if you see Ego’s crimes,
She is but the victim
Of your malpractice, right?
She projects her doings onto you.
You are unholy, not her.
Get It? You’re the loser.
You are the problem.
You are the disaster.
You are to be scorned.
You are to be defiled.
You are to be ridiculed
For exposing this Great Wonder.
Ego is kin of the Wicked Witch,
Who banished Snow White
For being the Fairest in the Land.
Ego loves those she can trample or smear,
For you are but a minion in her eyes
And worthy of her ridicule and shame.
As long as she is able to diminish you,
No one will be The One, but Ego.
Through the bravado,
Ego consumes all creation.
What can be forged by this Fear Beast
But a cold sweat?
There is no art in Fear,
Only incoherence in forms
And rambling tales,
As told by the choking tweets
Of dying birds.
Ego lies and deceives,
Making a wedding of
Nightmares and presentiments,
Muddling order and
Tangling lives into a bramble of thorns,
Suffocating souls, and
Drowning them under mushrooming thoughts
Of toxic orange horror
Unleashed by the despotic Sisters of Fear, for
They love your screams and pleas for salvation!
As long as you are in disharmony,
These ghouls have your soul.
So take heed.
Wake up to knowing.
Fear is Ego; Ego is Fear.
The antithesis of Love.
Ego bears her creed and
Her shield of ghouls masked as
Bowing Saints ready to do her bidding or
As the Winged Monkeys in Dorothy’s nightmare,
Flying forth from the tower to apprehend
The Tin Man, Scare Crow, and Cowardly Lion,
So you have worse to fear
In this your shiny mirror
Than tiny spiders and snakes.
Copyright© August 17, 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard