I am not myself

I am not myself                                                                                         

I’ve taken up the tightrope these last few years,

having so little to lose, life and time precious

but the cheapness of my indulgences

showing through, while that high,

tense wire is the only path to the other side.

To grieve, to judge, to mind, to intervene

is to indulge in Illusion.  When the mind fasts,

every sentiment and desire, every concept

is a tempting morsel of entrenchment,

intransience, disobedience –

bread for the mouth, wine for the throat.

High above the abyss, inching my way

towards whatever beckons from the other side,

I forego as best I might self-perpetuation,

the one exception being to pause continually

and remind myself I am not alone; not myself but Self. 

O child of God, if you were to bear alone salvation

nothing would be possible under its crush.