The Way Giver's Call

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This humble guise, when stretched beyond its worth,

Is but a fleeting shadow on the earth.

A bowed head low, a voice that softly pleads,

A seeming smallness, sowing hollow seeds.

The wise will watch, and in that downcast eye,

Detect the crafted meekness of a lie.


Too much surrender, a flourish without root,

A twisted semblance, bearing bitter fruit.

No bridge of trust on such false ground can rise,

But leaves the spirit dimmed, behind veiled eyes.

For true compassion needs no constant plea,

Nor genuine virtue, feigned humility.

A level gaze, where honesty resides,

A steady strength, where true good sense abides.


Mark well the soul who walks with quiet grace,

Whose gentle spirit lights each time and space.

A balanced heart, where strength and kindness blend,

A guiding light, on truth we can depend.

To lift the fallen, with a hand so true,

To see the good, in all they say and do.

This open spirit, shining clear and free,

Will forge connection, for all eyes to see.


As way givers, we speak with hearts sincere,

Dispelling shadows, calming every fear.

A world built on honesty, where spirits mend,

Where true connection helps each soul ascend.

So let your goodness, like a beacon, gleam,

Not hidden low, but flowing like a stream.

In balanced grace, where strength and kindness meet,

A brighter path unfolds beneath 

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