Who

Who is this person,
That I like to call ‘i’?
This mass of molecules,
So separate from the sky.

Throughout our lives,
We are taught the line,
‘We are individuals,
And this is mine!’

But how can it be
that I am so apart?
My thought and action
Only comimg from this heart?

Awareness I carry
Of that no debate.
But do I truly own anything
given it’s impermanent state?

My body itself
Never the same.
This mornings shadow
Cart by a diff’rent frame.

Just as a river flowing
Changes one moment to the next.
So in meeting another
They too not a rigid text.

To think of ourselves as fixed,
Maybe the original mistake.
in constant motion we are,
identify but a chosen make.

I am simply my choices,
cherry picked from memory.
Some give great satisfaction,
Others plain misery.

But none of this is real,
So changeable as I am.
All that is held onto,
Thanks to an arbitrary dam.

I will come and go,
No different to all that surrounds.
Simply a passing shadow
In this great universal merry-go-round.

Something greater we belong to,
Beyond the scope of this rhyme
A sublime, supreme consciousness
To which we’re matter caught in time.

So let go of me,
And the Descartian ‘i am’
Surrender your existence,
And rise up far beyond
This corporal sham.

 

(Poem taken from Dancing Shadows)

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