Our arms are held behinds our backs
as if we were handcuffed, except that
there are no bindings, no locked chains.
We created them with our magical mind,
out of fear, out of forgetfulness.
We forget that we are always free.
At the carnival, a small clown cracks a whip
and mighty lions and tigers jump through hoops.
Who cracks the whip in our heads?
We respond to commands like circus animals:
do this, now do that, but don’t do that other thing.
Who is the real master?
Who calls the shots but this very mind
that imagines itself bound, forgetting that
it forged the chains and holds the key?
We try to grasp this mind, searching
everywhere, within and without.
This story is going nowhere.
Just walk away.