Let go.

We are not rooted to the ground,
nor do we branch up to the stars.
We cannot touch our dreams, or even fathom,
for we chase to long the dreams of others.

We are the stars, floating in space.
With our own gravitational pull.
But all that we pull in,
become destroyed in the burning atmosphere.
And we so remain alone.

We are ego.

You’ve got to loose yourself to find yourself,
worldly possession forgotten.
Let water run through the ink on your pages.
Wash away your storybook.

Find your roots, and reach the stars.
Co-exist with your surroundings.
You’ve got the power of creation,
reaching a higher state of consensus.
You connect us all.

You are self.