unsent draft messages

Why is one never full?

I fear this appetite will be the death of me

Yet, I will still ask why

As my last breath slips through my throat

This insatiable desire to know,

Tell me how,

Tell me why!

And then why and why again

For a moment, I’ll pretend I’m done—

I’m satisfied

Untrue

Deep inside, I’m never satiated

The wise say, “to be is all”;

All else is white noise

Make the wise choice to accept that being is enough

And then diffusing as does ink in an ocean swell

As does the sweet fragrance of jasmine

Stolen from its home by the breeze

As does the sunset kissing the horizon

Yes, yes, yes!

I understand the concept

I’ve read the works and felt the shiver of being

The shiver is evanescent

Yet my thirst, is an unquenchable curse

A famous poet spoke of a thousand desires

Many fulfilled, yet the yearn for more burned inside

In truth, this is all I know

To know

To know I know not enough

To know that knowing is peering through the looking glass;

To be is the other side—

Is peering inside oneself

Finding the source of I

Removing I from within the heart—

As the old Sufi – Bulleh Shah – once pondered

It all sounds so profound yet impossibly simple

I wonder where to begin…

There it is again

I wonder, before I can pretend that I do not exist

I always come first—

Ego before everything else

A prisoner to I

I think…

I think I will wonder why

Until the ink is lost in the swell

Just as it was before I ever wondered

As it will be long after I cease to be

I wonder how long that is

Perhaps it is not for I to know,

Perhaps the question is the folly

I wonder what will unravel first 

The thread I’m pulling or I?