Self lets go

​

Who are my many voices?

Clamoring within, they only

​

want to be heard.

 

Let go of my self? — backwards

language. Actually, Self lets go of 

 

me.

 

the fear of being

free is unborn, and freedom 

​

never dies.

 

The myriad questions — what’s, and why’s — 

are only my many aspects begging just to

 

be

​

heard, and seen — in a split second they arise,

then float away —                                     

 

dreams.

 

Like small children’s hands, the myriad questions come, grasping

for some hint of safety. Taking so many small hands in mine,

I kneel down, look into empty eyes and say —

​

You are okay. 

The causes of distress and fear have never been. 

From the start there is no one to be freed.