The Kick

author’s note:

A companion poem to the last one posted.


THE KICK

Frustrated, after finding
so many things in my way that day...

when I saw him
kneeling on the floor
by the bookshelf
with his back to me--

I believed he knew
he was blocking me--
he just wanted
to assert himself--

so right then, I felt justified
in giving him a little kick--
nothing physically harmful--
just a tap on his shoe heel
to reverse the subterfuge
and thus, score a win.

But as soon as
I touched his foot
I felt my mistake
and said "I'm sorry"
in the same moment he said
"oh excuse me"...

I still feel bad
long after the fact--
disappointed

because I have
such grand ambitions
for myself--

(secretly, I desire to be a beacon)--

but the ego I need
to realize such designs
too often prompts me
to act so very small.

Then after I've shrunk
I must fight the impulse
to punish myself--with a kick.

Through such foolishness
I come to humility.
So I suppose I'm growing

...slowly, oh so slowly...

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology