You are free to go

jail doors

Dear Brave Souls:

The jail doors hang open, 

You are free to go.

And with love.

You realize this, yes?

That we are in a new world?

that we have crossed

a threshold,

that the jail door is open.

That we are free to go.

You realize this, yes?

That the weather

we once stood in,

is no longer here.

The hail that once

tore holes in you,

can no longer assail you.

That the torn leaves are

replaced by new leaves now,

green and growing.

Though we can create

a false theatre in our minds

in which hail ever rains down

from a punctured bladder overhead,

the real weather of the past

is gone.

It no longer can fall on us.

You realize this, yes?

That even in prison

one is not in prison,

That we know

the difference

between the lights

in prison

which are ever dim

and swing erratically…

in comparison

to the sunrise inside us

given one to a soul,

steadily rising

each new dawn…

You realize this, yes?

We are meant

to turn toward

warmth and sustenance

for we are at least

as much as the plants

and the trees, our exemplars,

who turn toward

the greater light

without asking anyone’s


You realize this, yes?

That the flowers and

the trees young and old,

will even curve themselves

around walls and fences,

even burrow underground

to arise across the road

in fullest light,

Even lying on the ground

the injured will give their all

to leaf out beautifully


You realize this, yes?

So too, us.

So too all of us.

With the sustained efforts

of flowers and trees,

So too, all of us.

Full irrevocable parole.

The jail door hangs open.

We are free to go.

Right now.

Consider this in depth: keeping what is of value from long ago or even a torment near… But/ and, what if all reverting to memory that is not productive were magically erased… say you just could no longer remember who said what, did what, what you did, said, you no longer saw a storm sky and forgot you now have more than adequate shelter in your own mind, heart, soul and spirit… because you say so, because you have bent to build it.

Only these questions then: What would we be free to do and say and sing, what would we be free to create were we not drawn unconsciously to ducking and cringing back in the theatre of old, retormented again and again by the false hail mimicking the past. What if a new play was mounted, and what would it be? What if, if need be, the theatre was condemned and taken down, and a new one, a brilliantly lit one, with comfy seating and wondrous actors and artists, were built instead. What if the theatre was the soul of your being?

Be gentle with these matters. But think on them. I find them valuable and hope they might be for you also, to each his own to each her own, as each soul sees most fit.

with love,


Poem, “YOU REALIZE THIS, YES? :LETTER TO THE SOUL IRREVOCABLY PAROLED RIGHT NOW” by CP Estés, ©2000, all rights reserved, from La Mystica, A Book of Prayer…

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