To be like Saint Francis

I sit here like a man who wants to be an ethical infant. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s better than the urge to be some tyrant of an adult. I walk in to my own life and I just looked at the roses I planted next to Saint Francis. I hadn’t watered the roses in a while because it’s rained quite nice the last few days. There seems to be some plants that just like to dance. A naïve dance into a type of oblivion is the non-temptation to govern air. Instead of teaching, I’m willing to be taught. Instead of fighting to be heard, I’m willing to listen. There’s no need as the gaps always seem appropriate and my intuition is always correct when to speak and when not to speak. This is the humility that many adults seem to consider to be infantile.