Humility a-borning

“Release me, O Lord, from bondage of Self, that I may....” (From a prayer by Bill Wilson, circa 1935)

I have told all my raucous slithering lies again
Acknowledging their import
And the damage of their roiling ignominious defiance...
They never die, you know..just Hide.

We’re not supposed to crawl, but still we do
Like shameful larvae, wishing to weave doormats
Of our worthless latter lives.

We can not know the wealth and worth of true Humility
So long as prayer seeks whip and derogation.
What agony we wallow in, Asking for forgiveness from the injured ones !

And, sure, like misers we put by,
As in a bulging purse, the generous pardons
Ill-gotten by our sniveling words
From many injured ones. And we are smug.

Then, facing one who once was snared
By blandishments of ours and then was crushed
By our invidious libel...
Yes here we learned!

This man we cruelly traduced professed
To not remember our offense, so magnified
In our iniquitous memory.
He laughed !He turned away, to jettison our amends.

“I don’t recall,” he said, “your words or deeds,
"But anyway, you were not...are not much.
“I saw you then a liar and lout
“And I believe, you’ll always be !!!”

So whether I had wanted solace, truly
And forgiveness from this mortal man,
The power of Truth poured out his face
To catapult my soul into a fresh dimension.

Beginning then, I have felt taller, known myself
And never skulked again.
I mend a fence of friend
Most every day, now.And know some portion of Humility.