The Gift To Be Brave Poem by Sean C. Harrison

If none's called to account for crimes against me
Nor some fetters broken that I may be free;
If little returns of the things I gave
My asking is only the gift to be brave.
If the sea of forgetfulness is finally dredged
And I find my frail life as Job's was unhedged,
My journey a hill whose summit is lost
Subsequent to the counted up cost;
My cries I will stanch for the rapture of this
That King David craved in despair's abyss:
That steady and sure as day's orb ascends
My courage will shine to earth's remotest ends.
For never shall I amid each dread throe
Besides being brave the peace of God know;
The calm upon which all shrinking back's lost
If to these hot fires my sweet dreams are tossed.
I'd see men arrayed in fiercest decor
And laugh at destruction pressed to my door.
Nought, great or small would hold in its power
The stuff to make my beating heart cower.
Like Jepthah and Gideon I would fight your cause
Devoid of all questions, bereft of a pause.
Make short work of this that shackles my feet.
For there's a task to be done before life's complete.