*

*

Father, I ask for nothing but the truth.

For this I must be a steel container,

able to withstand searing heat

or Arctic cold.

I have had many foolish thoughts about myself and my creation

stamped and battered with labels

shy girl, poet,

teacher-artist-mother-wife

and have brought a dream of fear into my mind.

wrinkles, forgetting,

loss of purpose, death

Today I would not dream.

Courage, crone!

Release the balloon of reveries,

Let it zigzag, sputter,

airless bit of rubber rag

I choose the way to You instead of madness and instead of fear

Guide me on this rocky, narrow path,

this thin, true spiral thread,

the other way, a murky dark maze

For truth is safe, and only love is sure.

From the Course in Miracles, Workbook for Students, Lesson 278, p. 435.