Stripes

Pomposity has its price.
Many doubt this when, swelled
in the afterglow of achievement,
the dominoes fall, one by one;

It doesn’t need to be this way, yet it
almost always is, hubris topples
the bravest among us. Still 
if we are listening, attentive, a small
inner voice that is easily ignored serves
to correct the course;

We perceive what is best, know we are
not separate from anyone or anything
under creation; we, who exist
in the here and now, specks among stars,
imbued with far greater potential
than we dare admit to administer wisely; 

Tigers know their tigerhood, women 
our womanhood often because it is reflected
in the mirror or through the eyes of another;

Imagine there are no mirrors anywhere
in sight; would we move more like animals,
loose and lithe in our bodies, keen in the subtleties
of what is essential, pared down to the bone
of what is not?