letting go of who you think you are

it becomes

who

you are, the hammer

in your hand,

the paint brush,

the desk

you sit at as you 

shuffle papers.

this is what you've

done with

your life,

and it's hard to let

it go.

the teacher

in front of the class,

the cook

with his knife

and cutting board.

the tight rope walker,

above the ground.

we are what we do for

so long,

we

can't bear to step away,

until

you sigh

and say with your heart,

it's time.

i'm gone.

i understand now that i

am more.