Spirit

In the mirror shining bright

Up above, reflecting all below,

Man is kind, man is poor, man is torn.

Wanting more, clawing forward,

His clothes are tattered and torn

His heart is roaring and soaring.

He will soon loose his warrior self

When he remembers fires are for warming,

Not for burning enemies.

Lakes can mirror back this truth,

When he feels and sees soft fluffy clouds.

Or he sees the shining love

Through a wondrous spider web,

Holding morning’s magical dew drops.

His heart will melt and soar

As he drops his torn, worn and tattered ego.

Then all will fall back in awe

As his shinning mirror pyramid

Rises up from deep, deep within his core.

Anne de Nada