The I
The I in me will ever be—
the I is a seeker.
Never complacent,
nor slave to self’s desires,
it must exist
in singular:
fully contained,
fully grounded,
before the I can become we.
The I should be able
to function—
untethered
from the eyes
looking at,
but not in.
The difference
is everything.
Looking at is scrutiny;
the other
may be care—
it takes time,
and a certain devotion,
to know
the center
of your I.
And even that center
may shift.
So—
center your I.
Search your I.
Love your I.
Not as command,
but as return.
Your I—
uncertain, becoming,
ever-reaching—
is an original.
