Not Just Myself

I am not just

 

who

 

I know myself

 

to be - this skin,

 

these bones,

 

these eyes.

 

Taliesin showed me

 

that.

 

I am the knower

 

of these things.

 

The one who 

 

knows he is yet

 

become the scale

 

on the salmon

 

climbing upstream - 

 

to become more

 

fish;

 

or the glint in 

 

the eye of the 

 

roebuck on the

 

hill

 

clambering higher - 

 

to see more land.

 

The shimmer in

 

the river pool,

 

the pollen on

 

the air,

 

the pill-bug

 

breaking down the leaves.

 

I have been a gurggle,

 

a zephyr, a ray in all

 

the machinations

 

of my heart.  I have

 

crawled, and swam, and 

 

flitted myself into

 

every crenulation of

 

all that is.  Feel the

 

pull of the tree

 

to look behind

 

its curve, feel

 

the tug of the salamander

 

to look up from

 

under loam.  That 

 

yearning tease is

 

to get you to

 

feel, beyond the 

 

boundaries

 

of your skin.

 

You are not just

 

who

 

you know yourself

 

to be - this skin,

 

these bones,

 

these eyes.

 

You are

 

all of the

 

becomings

 

and transformings

 

you are lured into

 

from quasars to 

 

quarks;

 

from mitochandria

 

to moss.  Feel

 

from those

 

places

 

and crack open

 

all imagination.

 

It shall set

 

you free

 

from the subtle

 

smallness and

 

the tiny

 

benignness

 

of the ego that

 

believes it is

 

so large.

 

Step out of

 

your timid self

 

and hold-hands

 

with the Knower.