Owning It
“It is wrong and immoral to seek to escape the consequences of one’s acts.”
― Mahatma Gandhi
Owning It
Balance is the pinnacle
The highest we can reach
Imbalance causes everyone
To moan and cry and screech
Imbalance of owning just joy
But when struggle appears
Saying “No thank you!” and running
Away from their fears
Peace through balance, symmetry
Light and dark on both sides
Enjoying calm, low waters and
Reveling in high tides
Where this is of most importance
Is owning what you’ve done
When great accomplishment is made
Your efforts, do not shun
They’ll warn you to be modest and
Be humble, show reserve
A WARRIOR BEATS CHEST AND SHOWS
INTENSITY AND VERVE
A Warrior knows there are few
Who will see all the work
That was expended and don’t care
If they seem like a jerk
For boldly saying, “I tried harder
And I would not quit
And if you think that’s arrogant
Well, I don’t give a shit!”
And on the other side of things
For balance to exist
When Warriors fail miserably
It is never dismissed
The Warrior will own that too
“I did the best I could
I came up short, apologies
I know will do no good
Instead of saying ‘sorry’ I
Will try harder next time
I own every accomplishment
And I own every crime”
To own a failure will befuddle
Most who just avoid
They know not of the confidence
That won’t leave you annoyed
Whenever things don’t go as planned
To own a great defeat?
To not make any excuses
And still on chest to beat?
To boldly proclaim, “Yes, I failed!
I own it, it is mine!
No sorries or excuses
A Warrior won’t whine!”
No life can be perfect and
No one can escape loss
Peace is not an upward line
Instead, it’s straight across
Good with bad, struggle with ease
Discomfort with pleasure
The ones most miserable are those
Who only want leisure
They only want to own the ‘nice’
And balk at what is hard
The Warrior embraces bliss
As well as being scarred
The Warrior’s symmetrical
A being in the middle
To other Warriors, a light
And to normals, a riddle
~Miro
Closing Fear’s Doors
Doors
A poem from
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Doors
Ever notice when you take
Your friends on your house tour
There’s usually one room that gets
Passed by with a detour?
“That room’s messy!” you say in terror
“Don’t need to go in there!”
What would people think of you
If they were made aware?
Of what’s behind the door that’s closed
The room not up to par
Would they think that much less of you
If that door was ajar?
Here’s two points to think about
Next time your tour is given
The goal by which the journey through
Your dwelling should be driven
Number one, to open up
To let people inside
To show them who the real you is
And have nothing to hide
It’s not about your showing off
All of the stuff you’ve got
Letting yourself be defined
By all the things you’ve bought
It’s all about what’s in that room
That you don’t want exposed
The room that will define you best
Is one that you keep closed
The second reason to reveal
That isolated place
Is to see if your guests will
Rebuff it or embrace
By opening up to your friends
They’ll open up to you
To get their honest reaction
Give them your complete view
You may not like what they may think
If they in fact rebuff
But at least you’ve learned about
The image that they bluff
‘Cause anyone who judges others
In an adverse way
Based on what’s behind that door
Should their own room display
And on the other side of things
You might just realize
Despite all your embarrassment
Most people won’t chastise
‘Cause every dwelling has a room
That’s messy, odd or weird
People who open those doors
Are ones to be revered
Because they say, “This room is me!
So what if I’m a slob?
I’d rather throw my underwear
On floors than be a snob!
I’d rather fill a room with merch
From things that give me zeal
Than be the type of person who
Condemns for being real!”
So hats off to the folks that open
All of their closed doors
And hopefully they will inspire
You to open yours
~Miro
Create Favorable Conditions
Inner Truths
Mothers
“Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” ~Elizabeth Stone
Mothers
There was a woman who decided
To give up her hold
On her own heart for something more
Precious to her than gold
It was more precious than diamonds
Or any other jewel
It was for diapers, crying and
Puréed carrots and drool
It was for sickness, broken hearts
Drama, uncertainty
It was to be a mother which she
Was so proud to be
The child knows not how they’ve carried
Their mother’s heart from birth
And carry it along with them
No matter where on Earth
They travel to, no matter how far
Life takes them away
How nice for Mothers that their hearts
Come back on Mother’s Day
~for Mom
