You are holding so tightly
to your beliefs
and your belongings,
you are squeezing
the breath of the tender infant
whose mouth seeks your breast.

You are focused so intently
on playing your role
to perfection,
you are missing
the cue that invites you to go off script
and speak the words in your heart.

You are holding so tightly
to the safe rope of routine
with your numb hands,
you are sacrificing
everything else even as you dangle
mere inches above soft grass.

What will it take to relax
all of that self control,
blink away the blank stare,
drop into the meadow,
create something?

Let go.
Kill the old idea of yourself
and dance naked on its grave.