Faced With Ego

Ego, bold, proud, confident and cold Walked over to me And subtly pricked my fragility With its sword, made of arrogance Hoping, maybe, to see me Fall on my knees and beg, Like one so needy and so easily jolted! Why, Ego, though, went on its way After meeting with a reflection of itself In the shine of the shield that I brandished In its own unreadable face! Pray, it is impossible for me to be moved by such I remain, rooted on humility Humility tied to politeness And a gentle savoir faire Ego, though it may seem to be as mighty As an Alpha wolf Scares me not Even if I remain, a tiny colorful butterfly One with a will to fly around a variety of flowers Enjoying their fragrance and being dazzled by their dance! Why, Ego, I am sure, is as it is, out of forceful will Ego, can let go of its sword as it can join in my dance Together, we shall let ourselves be submerged By hypnotizing shamanic beats, to which do sway the flowers!