I Am Therefor…
by Barefoot Justine
I am not the pillar cypress swaying,
I am not the rattled dirty window,
Nor am I the wary eye of my watching,
I am the very movement of the wind.
I am not the harbor of my precious pains,
I am not the gnawing claws of my regrets,
I am not my beliefs, nor the believing,
I am this peace that need know nothing.
I am not a shadow of he who travelled with me,
I am not of the bile he held in our bellies,
His whiskey breath could not contain me,
Nor am I worm, cocoon or Rapunzel’s butterfly.
I am not this headache which cannot touch me,
I am not this clot, nor stroke nor cancer,
Nor these thousand thoughts eating their tails,
And further not redoubling doubts and dreading.
I am not the echo of those who hurt me,
Nor the barbs of canker in those I’ve wounded,
I am not the song of our sad hearts singing,
Nor even the rumble of our forsaken laughing.
I am that silent breath of Shiv which wants not,
That altar of Ganapati’s heart which needs not,
That which travels to reach beyond my all,
That whose wanderlust has been sated and reborn.
I am the fall of a million cloudburst sisters,
I am far beneath the low of this long fall ended,
Yet far above the cloud of this fall’s birthing,
And I, of one, and all are of the fall itself.
I am the wet that manifests the drop of rain,
That becomes my sisters on the ground,
That knows no breathless pain for falling,
That knows no fear in fateful ending.
I am silver dew of grass into which I fall,
And I am the rain rippling in the pooling,
I am all the rain that has become one center,
And am every heaven reflecting in my puddles.
I am both feeding roots and flooding stream,
And I the sunken stones ‘neath river running,
I am all the storm does by doing,
And am the sea and depth with no light shining.
I am not what I was willing to know,
Not what thinking thought were so,
And I stand on nothing that I cognize,
And am only knowing in knowing being.
I am only what I am alone with all,
Not that which thinks therefor I am,
I am that which tastes the infinite nothing,
I am the forever still between my thoughts.
I am that silence between unspoken words,
I am that center, that hearth of home,
And I am sometimes so far and spinning,
From that home where silence holds its center.
I am not that simmering head that chatters so,
But am the stillness of silence in each ecstasy,
Yes I am only endless when one alone,
And reaching for forevermore now in one together.
I am not the steadfast earnest seeker,
Yet am the length between myself and all I’ve lost,
I am no more than the unteachable wisdom,
And more than every truth I have forgotten.
I am every birth of your becoming,
I am myself in all you dream without me,
I am the life in death’s concentric rhythms,
I am, most humbly, one only with God.
Neither I nor you have ever been here,
And neither I nor you will ever leave here,
I am an experience only briefly passing,
I the one and you and all are all.
I am the pillar cypress swaying,
I am the rattled dirty window,
I am the wary eye of my watching,
I am the movement of the very wind itself.