By Jim Rapp
Why do you resist my thoughts and turn away?
Do my words have less right than your words do?
And why it is so wicked as to arouse
A fear in you; a desire to do away with me?
The fiercest beast is fiercest when he fears,
The meekest hare turns tail in fear and runs.
The unknown, of course, some blinding sun,
Some uncharted, darkly wooded coast.
A face that’s strangely long, not round,
A moving shadow that you can’t ignore.
Shadows lose their fearsome hold,
When light dispels our apprehension.
That illuminate the path of civil-ization,
Voice to voice, and giving every voice its rights.