I see prowess and mastery in this
amazing feat, this artistry you do.
But it embarrasses
me to show how much I
admire it and how much I
want to be able to do it too.
I'm weak and don't want to
expose my lack. So I don't ask
or have you show me how.
I'll do it myself.
You're not the boss of me.
I'll figure it out the long way.
I turn away from your easy offer
to share what you know.
I turn away from your ability
to take time to show.
My insecurity wastes non-renewable
resources - your sage wisdom, skill,
and years of experience.
Recycling is a generous roundabout -
a creative thing to do. Goodwill
begets goodwill. It sprouts, goes rampant.
Rinse it. Strain it. Eat it when it grows
three leaves - faith, hope, and charity.
Love is the greatest of these.
It twines back upon itself
and swallows the spasm
constricting my throat.
Only when I become
a sage
will I know what a gift it is
when a seeker asks
and we both receive
a lesson. Love never ends.
Amen.
