poetry

Humility

Humiliation is the mother of humility
And the father of pride
A dual darkness, these two

Why not stand firm, face to the wind
hair frolicking wildly
eyes gleaming with the light

When you do that someone
may push you down
or raise you up on a pedestal
then, if you believe the illusion
comes dual darkness

So stand firm.
Remember that you are
like the wind
ephemeral, ever moving, ever-lasting.
And feel the sun on your face.
One mind, so seeking
the unknown future
for cracks in the sidewalk
rain in the air...

Playing out scenarios that are
not even there
push down, push up, pushed back
it seems

Life lived in the shadow of projection.
Humility and pride...
why?