Straw boss
As a spiritual pilgrim, I must go (I am told)
from being an egocentric being
to a being without a center;
dust adrift in a cosmic wind,
settling eventually on Love Street
at the feet of my Lord.
I might have been a straw boss once.
Now I’m being pummeled into dust,
this sack of flesh containing the lot
of my accumulated wisdom.
Any glint among the grains a mere trick of light.
Apparently, I have only just come under the hammer
and it’s a long, long journey
from here to nowhere.
O child of God, what matters the length
of a trek you have no choice but to undertake?
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