Spirit is NoBody

The totality of 'me' has no name. The word 'Chris' draws my heed,
but can't account for deeper zones where sound and fury, like wind
inflates my sails. The me I think myself to be, caretakes a seed
whose sprout becomes a Soul. But as I am, a rude, thin-skinned,

big mouthed, know nothing, my best move is to clam up and clean
the weeds from my estate. The seed I'm here to serve, needs soil
without vermin, pure waters from elevations pristine,
and Light that emanates from fires set to consume the spoil

left by Persona's mis-spent reign. The Soul I tend, aspires
to reach beyond the bonds of gravity. The rake and hoe
I use, are tools gained from repurposing what were desires
the Ego loosed to serve its never ending appetite for mo'.

One has to want with all one's heart and will, to rise
above turmoil and squalor to reach that place where true
scale and order come clear. Winglessness awaits unwise
pretenders in the worship of Truth and Goodness.

An active quest for luminance, with ardor, must stay full
in flow. Done right, there's nothing to go back to. The turn of mind,
we seek (the object of the quest), requires that we pull
our tents and leave. This is the tricky part. If you stay, you'll find

the Middle East times ten, If you do go you'll have to face
the monster down under the bed. Sucks to be you! But still
the mission must be done, if one believes in Good and Grace.
Get off your ass, and learn how one works to beef up a Will.