Scones and Crones

I can get rather full of myself at times. Then I remember this poem by Hafiz that The Wise Imp (my description) in the form of Seena B. Frost read to us when I was in facilitator training this past October. And I remember that, much to my chagrin, my ten thousand idiots are quite alive - thriving even - inside me...

Ten Thousand Idiots

It is always a danger
to aspirants
on the
Path

When they begin
To believe and
Act

As if the ten thousand idiots
Who so long ruled
And lived
Inside

Have all packed their bags
And skipped town
Or
Died