Giving Up

Giving up is the beginning of freedom.
Dying to want is the beginning of love.
Letting go is the beginning of living.

It is not by my hand that I shall live.
Although I have considered it, it is not by my hand I shall die.
If I run alongside the river of truth
I will always know my path.

Each day when the flag is lowered and taps is played
Each night when my head rests upon my pillow
I will be done for that day.
I shall not carry the worst or the best to bed with me as they will rot
And I do not wish to entangle myself between the sheets with what is done and gone.

When my bare feet touch the floor
While the birds of the morn are calling
I will lean forward into the new day
To practice.  To maybe get it right.