Now I have learned to let go of what I treasure,
to let it live in me and not be mine to keep.
Not the one - the feeling itself:
to hold it without closing my hands.

Love is an emptiness that feeling fills,
and out of that emptiness a new life comes.

To let go is not to lose.
It is to let the feeling live beyond you,
beyond the wanting, beyond the holding on.
It is made for freedom, as a bird is made for flight.

Close your hands around it, afraid that it will go,
and it will die there, quiet, in your palms.

But open them - and you can watch it rise,
and watch it go, and still remain yourself.