WHO AM I_ POEM

WHO AM I? POEM

 

1

Isn’t it ever so strange

that this primal Question, Who Am I

the most essential of all,

the only real one,

ignored remains by almost all?

 

2

The very first Question it was

that in my childhood I asked, although

somehow aware was I that the Answer

the adults around me knew not.

Asking it was perhaps

my own way of praying.

   

3

This children’s singsong I once heard:

“I think I am a Muffin Man.

No muffins have I

nor the things muffin men sell:

I think I am a tram.

I am getting confused

and don’t know who I am!”

It was just like

I had written it myself.

 

4

When writing, the Writer am I

when loving the Lover,

while teaching our students the Teacher,

when healing the Healer,

but even the best roles

utterly transcended must be

to be who we really are.

 

5

In this world’s ambiguous surfaces

when in any endeavor engaged

an Actor I become, but on a Stage

not of my own choosing,

a part or another playing out

in an epic, tragedy or comedy

which never quite fits me:

only too well I know

that tested am I still.

 

6

What I am to myself alone

like a symphony is, but one

few can ever hear, like

of the infinite Mystery an echo,

a dim reflection of Her smile down here;

like a forever uncompleted painting

so vivid and intense in the Painter’s mind,

like a dream dreaming itself

without any dreamer.

 

7

To myself alone

a fire am I most of all

which never can be extinguished,

all I ever was and all that

I must still transcend its fuel is;

or like a lamp’s intense light

without any lamp at all.-

It is always the best Light

for all lamps deform it

 

8

However, although my essential nature

Light is, in some abysses of my being

darkness I also contemplate

for inwardly was I told

not to fully dissolve it yet

or with the external world all contacts

lose would I and never accomplish

what I came down here to do

the Mission of my Soul.

 

9

In the world we share

a shadow I also appear to be

the one of whom I really am.

It is this shadow, not the real me

writing these lines:

Both mind and words

shadows are all.

 

10

What is it that I am really

trying to say?

How can anyone live

not knowing who he really is?

Most care so little about it,

or even not at all.

Do you?

 

What I really mean is that

ultimately ONE are we

and however you appear to be

I will always love you.

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