On Remembering Who We Are

Pride goes before a face-plant; ah, its muddy grant we earn

When we choose lust instead of love it yields a sure return

Though, for a while we smile and swing our small world like a toy

Pride goes before a fall as sure as sorrow follows joy

Pride's willful want wails louder than the quietness of trust

And we are oh, so skillful at the cunning art of lust

Where sight distracts us from the right and wrong of what we choose

Before the bitter taste of prideful haste renders its dues

We are not gods; though often we forget until we sit

In the mud-puddle of regret and repent for a bit

Then we remember who we are, not by merit or laud

But simply by the mercies of a kind and loving God

© Janet Martin