Eyes opened

Sometimes
when I forget to look where I'm going
I trip
over my own thoughts.
I have to look then,
really open my eyes.

Who let that envy in?
Who's been feeding anger?
What inflated pride's balloon ...
and who's going to pop it?

Me?

But I'm the one who tripped
over the nothingness of material possessions,
an imagined slight from a friend,
the arid joy of personal praise.

Then I stop
and listen for guidance:

God's will, not mine
God's pace, not time's
God's path ...
and find my way.

JANICE JOHNSON-PALMER

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Editorial
What we can do about intolerance
December 27, 1982
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