Humility is so very hard to find
man is themselves have this great lack
for most of us think we're so great
the very opposite of a humble knack
Looking far and near to find one
many think they are humility-full
but the one who does proves they're not
for they smack of the opposite, so uncool
Learn from those who are meek of heart
thinking they are the least of all
not putting themselves out to the front
instead content being last no matter who calls
They are also those who speak seldom
using only words to encourage and lift up
not seeking to be critically rude
only happy to say little about your cup
Well, how does one sum this up?
be humble, keep yourself idol-free
think not great of your very self
walk the humble road with integrity
I did not, in any sense, desire a fight with my eye
The eye that keeps greedily taking glances,
Seeking to convince my soul to allow
Beauty,
fleeting pleasure,
and the glory of youth.
For indeed, youth is glory:
A flower that blossoms for a season.
For there lie a myriad forms of fruit,
And every fruit begins at a seed.
A seed suffers shame in many ways;
At times, a bird may take it as a snack.
A choice, in a way, must be made at the level of the seed:
Either be consumed, or be sown.
Both paths satisfy an innate desire.
A youth may take it as a snack;
An elder may sow it and allow it to rot for formation.
One fulfills a fleeting pleasure;
The other postpones urgent gratification.
In every path, some desire is embraced.
Yet at the sunset,
One is further advanced in multiplication,
While another adores only flashbacks.
In all, a need is met
Dear poet, with a deep sense of humility,
I dare reply to your memorable verse,
“Where Without Whom,” a jewel of the mind.
Perhaps, your noble steps did stroll astray,
Treading the forest, where no breath of kin resides,
Chasing your soul, where no shine of sun sheens,
Where the breeze don`t whisper on leaves a name,
Where the dead quietude has prompted you
To carve a gem that will glow across time
And blow with warm wondrous winds across space.
The taller a tree rises
The deeper its roots do sink
To brave the wafts of wild winds;
The higher a man mounts up
Lower his grips need descend
The ground of humility.
A simple roof to shield from wind and rain,
A tranquil house devoid of stress and strain
Where the flashes of faith and love do shine,
Renders a home the shrine of the divine.
No need for ocean of wealth, grand and vast,
But a peaceful spirit fostered to last,
Harvesting joy, strolling beneath the sky,
Staring at sparkling stars slowly slide by.
To use simple bricks homes to build, isn`t shame,
So it`s with words we choose, verses to frame,
No need for pompous, grandiloquent art
To touch the innermost depth of the heart.
Simple words cutely used sparkle delight,
Illuminate the common mind with light,
In humble verses, the inner self gleams,
Reflecting life's limpid lingering dreams.
High sounding verbiage sounds harsh to ears,
Grips the mind of the bulk of souls with fears~
Simplicity isn`t mediocrity,
But the mirror of true humility.
The lesson from a father to his son
Are blessings in disguise
For they are guidelines to success
And longevity;
My father taught me many things
He taught me to be firm
While going after what I want
Taught me how to say no without guilt.
My father taught me
How to stay strong and patient
When things don't go my way
According to my plans
I should let go of things
That is out of my control
Teaching me detachment.
My father taught me
To be humble and consistent
When things start going my way
According to my plans
Because discipline and humility
Maintains success.
My father taught me
How to treat everyone
I cross paths with
Because variety is the spice of life
Disparaging another only
Feeds the ego instead of essence
He taught me so many things
I can't mention here
When words are too much it becomes void.
I done no wrong
I am human created to belong
You don’t know me
May not speak your language
Words are of my native land
Let me help you understand
I love America
America offers Freedom and well being
Being invited by the Statue of Liberty
The theme, “Hope, Rebirth and the American Dream”
In my native land, it the Oppressed under stress
I want enrich in the aroma of goodness in the American way
Don’t push me aside being estray
I want to be your friend, and that is no pretend
What the mirror shows of me is what you will see
Who I am and meant to be
Culture
I am not trying to be your enemy
Just my place in society
Intertwining with others
Hate you shouldn’t feel, but rule it out
Not to harm
Don’t be alarmed
We were all created for a purpose
To live, breathe and associate
Hate is a separate
There is no need to depart
We can share both our cultures as one
The foundation is heritage
The reality is privilege
Together we can become united
Hate has no place
Only takes up space and waste
Let’s embrace one another
Humility living
Giving and Sharing
Gentle and Lowly
Can leaders be proud
Speak out fiercely and loud
Caring not much for truth
Nor providing sound proof
Parading themselves
As far above all
Expecting opponents
To stumble and fall?
What a contrast is seen
In Jesus my Lord
Who said to the weak
Come to Me and find rest
Take my yoke and learn
I am gentle and lowly
Find rest for your souls.
Read Matthew 11:28-30
Sweet in my tea
We don’t have much left, you see.
Our depletion
Makes way for deletion.
Sweet thing, we’ve cut all your flowers
To build our towers.
So now all I think
When I pucker my lips to drink,
Is
Humble me
Bumblebee.
Oh what a day!
an ocean sky and rays bright enough to probe a grateful mind
a beautified path laid before me to distract from what haunts behind
a bounty of abundance in every direction, still the air is freshest north
the birds sing for me and the trees dance with every step forth
liberation rests in my feet and stagnation fears me
my future is promised colourful, even beyond what I can see
Oh what a beautiful night!
the moon welcomes me home with such harmonious light
reminding me that beauty has no preference
reflecting on the bounties from the day
strengthening my soul from leading astray
love has sewn itself into my hide
the rays gifted to my mind brighten my vision
a reminder that life must be conquered without intercession
a life unenjoyed is like a starved appetite
a bird whose wings refuse to take flight
let us remain in the intoxicating stupor of internal delight
A quiet soul, a gentle hum,
Not beating on a boastful drum,
The ego's whispers overcome,
Judgment wisely held, fingers numb,
Just simple words, on lips outrun,
Understanding sought, all work done,
Mistakes are faced, not forgotten,
The rightful path, so finely spun,
With open heart, all are welcome
Sharing kindness before one`s numb,
A field of grace for everyone,
Imparts his glow, beneath the sun.
However flash need a dash of humility
Whenever rash need a splash of civility
If ever brash need panache & nobility
However much ability can be a liability
Forever a proclivity for mental fragility
Senility forget the limits of their capability
When you flunk debunk the junk of hostility
Abash at that dash and lash was just trash
To really become cricketing divinity for infinity
If you blow make a hash of it show a bit of humility
Humility, a prized gift, a quiet poise, a fond grace,
Peace, quietude and happiness bloom under its soft shade,
Not a stamp of softness or weakness, but a mark of silent strength.
The tall tree, towering to the sky, sheltering birds quite freely,
Stands so sturdy, but bends to the strong wind and rain torrents,
Nature`s clear and vibrant paradigm of humility.
The noble river, a silver thread, nourishing where it is led,
Journeys through slithering paths to merge with the wide ocean,
But never complains of losing its own identity.
The vast ocean, a huge mystery, deep, where secrets hide,
Through storms and calm, it keeps its place, holds the world in its sway
Provides food and fortune to men, but do not ask for anything.
Selfless and quiet teachers all around, on earth and underground,
They reveal the essence of humility at all times,
The need to have a gentle heart, be a humble player.
Mr soldier
Drop your weapon, your gun
Here is not a war zone but a city
Use your wisdom, ain't you educated
Harassing a civilian, instead of protecting them
Your duty is detecting the criminals not a commoner.
Mr soldier
You're not stronger than the people
You're only armed and authorize not the mighty
Drop your arrogance, it's not important
Stop the intimidation and pick up humility.
Mr soldier
I've got so much respect for you
Defending and protecting our nation
From oppositions even amidst dangers
But I despise oppression
Humiliating an innocent citizen.
(“Before the Door”, 2023, original encaustic)
The older I get
The less concern I have
About ever being a saint,
But I’m sure that was a motivation
When I was younger
Although I’d have been loath to admit it.
Being a saint means being perfect,
At least in the final effect
If not the cause,
Being good enough to redeem one’s mistakes,
Help others and even make the world
And universe a better place.
Or so I thought.
Now, as I care less
About being saintly,
I see perhaps it means less about changing
Than simply acknowledging even celebrating
Others, the world, the universe, Life
Exactly as it is,
For the perfect creation
It’s always been.
(11/12/25)
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