Written after Spiritual Practice class....
I stare at the flame
breath
focus
in and out
of focus
feeling my many minds
splitting into their separate folds,
breath
in and out
of focus
and they are chattering
the noisy paper dolls
fashioned from my many moods
all dressed in lacy clothes.
They ring around me
drinking tea and telling my stories,
my lies
my truths
my every thought in between
like a shell of moving masks
bright and intricately painted,
all the versions of me,
but from my real face
with my real eyes
I watch the flame
breath in and out
focus
until it sears this shell away
and there is nothing left
to hide me
from
myself...
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