A little Zen poem

Are you like me?

Collecting people as you go,

hoping that they will lift you when you’re low?

Looking to them to fill your empty side,

wanting to seem so brave when deep inside

a little child is trembling in the dark?

She looks to you as one to light the spark.

The "you" you seek was never lost,

but only hiding.

It’s the ego "you" who’s doing all this chiding.

These are the games we play to stir the pot;

You are who you are, but oh my dear, you’re not.

H. Cristina Cassidy