Field Self

When ego trips take me away from You,
I see myself as blade in field of grass,
so blinding self-importance fades from view,
along with arrogance and pride that’s crass.
For, as a blade, I’m part of something larger
than ego which inflates – hot air balloon –
and pops dramatically a little later,
so that I feel I’ve been a fool – buffoon.
As blade, I sway with others in a field,
in wind that bends my stretching, supple stem,
designed to bend instead of break, to yield,
as I reach to the sun like all of them.
I feel relieved by fields that I walk by,
imagining I’m grass that’s growing high.


Mario A. Pita

This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s