Hanging above a stream By phantom limbs Fish pass below... The tortoise on the side of the road sees me hovering above the water. How they hell did you get up there? He asks. I can't remember. I say. Fear, I think. What do you have to be fearful of? Everything and nothing... what if everything is made of nothing? All I have are these phantom limbs I cling to. I can't see them but I can feel them. You may think I am just hovering here, mindlessly. But they are real to me. They feel me too. I see. The tortoise considers my dilemma deeply. Well, how long are you going to hover there? The stream is flowing on without you. I'm not sure - I'm not sure I want to know where it goes. Everything will change. I will lose what I have here. It goes everywhere and no where. It changes everything and nothing. As you already know. How do you know this from the shore? I was once part of the stream. In a way I still am, and I'll be back again. Just like you will. For now it is up to you how soon that is. For now. He paused looking up at the clouds. We can both see that rain is coming. I need an outlet for all that I feel. It is too much to keep in. How can I burden the stream with yet another voice? The stream is all that you feel. It is everything and nothing, at once. Those limbs will not hold you for long. The longer you cling to that single feeling, no matter how real it may feel, the deeper you will fade into true nothingness - emptiness. The farther you will go from the truth. You will no longer see the way the stream flows. You will hover above water, yet still the rain will come - and it will be farther for you to fall. For now, you can choose to let go. Looking up at the sky, the clouds shift and condense into deeper shades of gray. I can feel the mist on my skin. I get a chill yet I feel more awake. Looking down at the stream below, I can still see the fish, the life below the surface. I can see the rocks too, and where I might like to land to avoid them. I still have time to choose... Without looking up again, I let go. Flowing swiftly, wildly at first, I burst into laughter. Let it go! The tortoise yells to me. I can barely see him, but I feel him. I feel everything and nothing. Flowing: the more I let go, the more the stream flows through me. I am everything and nothing.