My Precious, Misguided Mind

3 December 2011

I keep hearing the voice
  calling me into silence,
  to hear, to write.

More separation from materialism,
  more closeness to simplicity;
  letting go, opening up.

Asceticism

I have not yet rejoiced in the freedom
  I have crafted for myself.

Bound by self prescribed rules of vocation and success,
  I look ever forward to what I'm 'supposed to be'
  neglecting that which I am,
  forging 'shoulds' where 'coulds' want to emerge.

Where is that freedom?

Who is its jailer?

I know - my mind - I know.

Such a dear, exquisite, simple child,
  arrogant in its feats, ignorant of its limits,
  ever the first to step boldly forward,
  always the first to fall,
  and the last to recognize its own folly.

I do love it, this precious, if oft misguided, mind!