Sin in my Seventieth Year
in varying degrees,
to the seven deadly sins
– and countless others, more trivial,
in my three score and tenth year,
I confess, above all, to pride.
I am not too proud
for hand-me-downs and handouts
and even, on occasion, helpful advice.
I am not proud of my looks,
– that was long ago,
nor of my accomplishments,
save that I have survived.
I have no pride of possessions,
all are impermanent and mutable,
nor of my intellect which, like my body,
is swiftly succumbing to the indignities of age.
I might take pride in the kind hearts of my children but,
fearing the jealousy of the gods,
I shall keep silent,
But I am proud,
fiercely and joyously proud,
simply of being here,
of existing at this time and place
in the continuum of consciousness,
as witness and participant.
I am proud that I have been summoned by the universe,
to learn its workings,
to serve the great work as lover and beloved.
I am so proud to be a drop in the bucket of totality,
a spark in the blazing glory of creation.
I am proud, beyond measure,
like a freshman at the senior prom,
of having been invited to the dance.
Linda M. Stitt
from Passionate Intensity
Seraphim Editions, 2003