Wholeness Without Doors

If not honest all that remains is emptiness,  
beneath the clothing the mask of a fool,  
illusions touched by shadows  
of one's own insecurities.  
 
 
I am alive living the Renaissance Man,  
the freedom to be the best of me  
in nature wanting more without doors,  
in one's secret garden.  
 
 
Body, mind, and soul feeling the wholeness  
to breathe the unconscious hunger,  
freeing the ghost within,  
naked on the prairie.