I feel my pride
slither away to hide under some far away rock—
as if vanquished—
every time
I acknowledge my need of you and
embrace humility anew.
In this place of opening to you,
I often find myself lost in wonder
at the beauty you are, the beauty you make—
only to feel
the slithering, coiling, rising,
striking of this deadly snake, again.
Teach me in my despair
over this creature’s return,
to rest all the more in your embrace.
Free me to laugh at myself
and my cunning pride
from the safety of your mercy and grace.
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