The Tao

Was there a time before today, a lost age, a yesterday, when life was the same but you were unchanged, as eternal as spirit could stay? And if it did exist, if you were more whole, than I insist, tell me why you let it die and hang ghostly like morning mist? If something caused you to stray, to look inside and then run away, was it practicality, acceptance, the abstracts with which society weighs? Do you miss you? Do you ever see through all the things you hold true that betray and subvert and don't satisfy, do you tire of all the nothing you accrue? Do you want to begin anew? I beckon, my dear, return to what's clear, cast off the chains of others demand, your integrity lies in the palm of our hand, pulsing hard and always near. It's all around, plain to sight, in the center of sound, the taste on your tongue, the scent in the air, the feel of breeze as it flows through your hair, do you really want to fight it? You don't want it to quit. You're ready to listen to your heart, true since conception, united with mind, for never were the twain meant to part. You say yes with only a shadow of no, and it whispers: But what about your commitments? All the baggage you've claimed. What are they going to say? How shall you rid yourself of that doubt? Is everything really going to be okay? I promise you, I wouldn't lie, face your fear and see what it's about, the beginning is slow, but trust me and take the first step trust me and just breathe in, breathe out.