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!
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