Spirit Humans

We imagine ourselves
as wolves and owls, hawks
and lions, sharks and
deep-eyed jaguars;
they do not imagine
ever becoming one of us.

No animal
has ever had
a spirit human.
They are comfortable
as themselves.

Never see themselves
in pale hikers, secret lovers
naked and earthbound,
villagers in their encampments;
do not envy the accounting manager
fly fishing in a mountain stream,
dressed to the outdoor nines, failing
at every other cast.

We are selective as well
in hard to fathom ways:
we never say
I am the worm that endures in darkness,
I am the hard shelled crab that opens
to vulnerability often, yet survives,
I am the trout that escapes death
but hovers nearby after fleeing.

So hard to admit
we are not comfortable
beings, that we 
can rarely recognize
what we need
even when
it’s before us.