Looking Back

Looking back
with a clear and open mind,
I see the little flies of anger
that have buzzed around me
for most of this life.

I have been mad at the world,
frustrated by a million minutiae
that fell short of my expectations,
the little slights and omissions
that did not meet my standards.

How silly it now seems,
to have spent so much energy and time
on a thousand little battles with them,
when, from a place of truer seeing,
I know that they were merely imagined,
figments of a fevered ego,
a petulant dictator,
foiled at every turn.

How much more peaceful now,
how much more full of joy,
to be in this world as it is,
that old swarm of petty annoyances
fading into so much smoke.