A prose poem in response to the following prompt:
Achievement is not the child of conquest
Bravery is not the brother of aggression
Courage is not the spouse of violence.
Do not underestimate the mundane
Experience the miracle of breathing
Feel the breaths come and go.
Getting even—becoming an account in need of balance
Hurting those who hurt you
Injuring those who injure you, is never
Kings are often miserable
Lords just as sad, but
Maids might smile sincerely.
Narcissism drowns people in themselves.
Obsession drowns them in others
Paranoia drowns them in delusions about themselves and others.
Quiet when listening
Respectful when speaking
Silent when enraged.
Termites bring down houses
Unseen amoeba destroy humans
Vices bury heroes
Water erodes mountains.
Xenophobia freezes hearts to stone
Young smiles gently melt them to soothing liquid
Zealotry boils hearts, leaving a dry pot.
I planned to write this in series of 3, but I noticed too late that I had left two letters out…I ended up adding those two to existing sets of 3.
P.S. This is a first draft. I welcome feedback.