"Who Am I"

Who Am I?

Am I flesh, bones, and breath aligned,

A spark within a fragile rind?

A vessel shaped by fate's decree,

Bound to time and entropy?

Genes whisper ancient commands:

Eat, survive, make your stand.

Pulse and instinct, coded tight,

Marching toward the fading light.

But what of the voice beyond the frame,

A subtle hymn without a name?

A yearning vast, unmeasured, free,

Boundless as the endless sea?

Could I be a cosmic thread,

Woven where the stars are spread?

A drop of spirit, pure and wide,

Carried by the universe's tide?

Or neither flesh nor breath, nor glow,

But something deeper we can't know?

A fleeting echo, dreamlike haze,

A puzzle veiled in endless maze?

Perhaps I’m both—finite yet vast,

A moment where the questions last.

Living, wondering, learning anew:

What am I, if not both true?