Are we these masks we wear
in order to belong, to woo a mate,
to pass the castle gatekeepers
to get the jobs that feed our kids?
Are we the I, this self,
the incommunicable entity
of this naked person that returns
our stand still stare into the mirror
that wears no mask,
that is more than a what,
that dares to be a who
with a will to become?
And are we more?
Are we the soil that grounds
this who that we are,
some companion who goes where we go,
who waits there for us to arrive,
some Soul-Self that calls our who
to be and become?
To become what?
that is all within us,
that is all outside us,
some Root predating
this universe’s big bang,
its ever expanding contraction,
some Wellspring to which we all return,
where every yin, every yang
dissolves into the one Tao,
one finality for all beginnings,
one beginning for all that's final?
February 7, 2008