My days are filled
With saints and sinners,
Images of who I am -
Of who I would be,
Goals, aspirations,
And personal failings,
As I wander from the mountains
To the seas.

Failure nips at my heels
Each day,
Seeking to hide my blemishes
From all,
Successes, however,
Are celebrated
Far and wide,
But so rare,
No need to forestall.

In this,
We have the human composite,
A dichotomy of intentions and deeds,
A complex mess
Of work and rest,
Seeking to overcome
The daily tests,
And always
To satisfy the needs.

If only we might,
Simplify,
And focus on the gifts
That we might bring,
We may find, then,
Our hearts to be full,
As we have caused
Our humanity
To ring.