In Me (A Poem)

I sit here inside myself,
wondering where to go,
what to look for.

I know its there,
but for some reason,
most of the time I can not see it.

Its just me in here,
with the voices and the forces,
the images and ideas,
the spirits and the ghosts.

I am never alone.

The feelings at times overwhelm,
shut me down,
make my world stand still.

The thoughts at times pull me into other worlds,
other places where I am not me,
where places are not places,
build't out of emotions and things intangable.

Still,
its just me in here,
seeing all these things with an eye inside,
I wonder how far I could see,
and then wonder what I am looking into.

Me?

Could be,
but its so vast,
can one get lost in themselves?

Could I ever travel so far into myself as to not return?

My imagination is a divinity dancing,
holding my hand,
showing me the possiblity of me,
revealing unto me the Masks of I.



By Patrick J. Larabee