me and me
By Natchaguru
I look at you and realize
the one who’s looking hasn’t changed.
The observer hasn’t felt the pain
or longed for love or even aged.
No wisdom gained
or knowledge lost.
No hopes or dreams
to fall apart.
You simply watched
this monkey mind
assemble this identity,
then fill it quick with etiquette
and unmet expectations.
Until the day the mind was still
and stillness roared like thunderclaps.
Old gravestones spoke and set me free
and “I” became aware of “me”.
I gently fell from branches high
and soared through air
on feathered wing.
Nestled roots in earth’s dark ground,
to breath
and be
and be set free.
