Sunday, March 8, 2020

Myself

Myself                                                                                                        

I mention myself as if I know who I am. 
As if I exist in the way I suppose.

Allude to my identity, which has never
revealed itself as to who I might really be.

I’ve never fathomed myself to see how deep I go
or grasped myself to see what I am made of.

Instead, I’ve gone all these years without proof
on the childish assumption that somewhere

under this skull, behind these mortal ears and eyes,
there is a definite, knowable point –

an abiding seat of judgment and resolution which is me,
continually plotting (and lifelong has)

the course of my existence – responsible for who I am,
what I do, what my life has been and will be.

All my life, I have taken myself for granted –
that I exist in the way my mind tells me I exist.

O child of God, to find out who you are
seek an authority above the mind.


No comments:

Post a Comment