Everything that makes up
that which I call, “me,”
is not-me.
It is stardust, sunlight, and rain.
It is manure, seed, and plant.
It is animal, vegetable, and mineral.
These elements dance together for awhile
and from their dance comes, “me.”
I am only and ever the dance
whose rhythms and melodies flow
in constant interchange of sounds and silence,
andante and allegro, pianissimo and fortissimo,
always changing, never ending.
If I try to cling to, “me,”
I stop the song and end the dance.
When I understand that I’m not, “me,”
I find the dance will never end
and that I will always be.
William Martin 