Voices

There are so many voices inside me. The voice of the visionary anarchist, the voice of the fiscal conservative, the Christian mystic, the non-dualist, the lover, the warrior, the fallen monk, the narcissistic nine year old throwing his dish of spinach out the window. Which one is me? How do they ever reach a consensus? They don't. They just buzz around the wild flowers, drunk on nectar. I am the meadow.