Brandy-First Poem "Who?"

WHO?

Who am I?
Am I the one who sings
songs within my soul or
the one who's late to work
and tired, so tired
of ignorance and deceit.
The one who smiles
at the sound of a child's laughter
or the one who thinks
I need to change the now.
Am I the one who worries I might forget
and frets about whats already been.  Am I
the one who's mind is full of constant chatter
or the one who whispers,

"Be calm, my child, all this noise and regret,
none of it really matters.  What's done is done,
and its not what you are, but who you are, my love.
Be still and hear the laughter, the wind inspiring the leaves to fall.
Walk softly, feel the Earth below, feel the wind inside your soul.
Whatever happened to you, dear child, was never who you are.
You cannot change the past, young one, for its already been.
To waste your life for the morrow, a tragedy.
My friend, the now is all you have, will ever have.  Be there,
and only there, for that is where I live.  You live. You and I,
we are one.  That, my friend, is who you are."

Oh, but if it were true, do you think
I'd seem crazy arguing with myself? 
Do you think I'd mind my own voice
as it says "Be Calm" when I can't stand
my loved ones saying the same?
"Shhh, that is the future,
made up of many nows.  Can you,
right now, hear your words and sit,
and breathe, be calm?"
I can, right now, just be, I guess,
if you think that's what it takes.

Well, if you think I am crazy,
perhaps you haven't met you yet.

The fine art of surrender   (13+) Formerly The Journey of Muse and Man. Overcoming damage of soul and man #1520827 by SWPoet

See my response poem to "Little Boy Lost" by Bronxdutchman (which is his response poem to the poem above.)

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NOTE:
Below is the first version, the rhyming one. 
I think I like the top one better so use that one
for whatever assignment we are asked to do. 
Thanks
Brandy
_______________________________
WHO?

Who, I wonder, is the soul
who lives inside of me
Is she the one who whispers
soothing words that set me free

when I go through my day spinning
about what I have done wrong
or when I try to break through
the mental noise just to write a song.

Is she the one who owns my hands
when creating words of zen
like poetry, without my mind
getting in between.  And when

will I finally meet myself
and say thank you and hello,
and walk with her side by side
for she's one I'd like to know?

And who is it that others see
at work and in my home?
I don't think they care to learn,
for to them, I'm me alone.

I've heard a silent moment
is sufficient to invite
our other selves to talk a while
if we'd learn to be polite

and really listen past the noise
of our ego's constant chatter
I'd know that I am really she
and my ego's not what matters. 

So when my ego spins and whines
and says my story's not worth writing,
it is I, the she, that whispers  "go to sleep,
sweet ego, I've no use for fighting."

(work on last four lines)
And with my inner critic silent
I write with childlike glee

till I hear the ego whispering
"hello, I am so glad you found me."