Amoeba
I may never have a permanent name
I may have many names
I may have no name
I may have all the names
I am being trained for change
As soon as I form the idea of myself, or things how they are or going to be
It’s been kindly ripped off / deconstructed
Layers and layers of different truths have been peeled from my onion body
I construct and then deconstruct
It makes my mind mad.
But somehow, I feel that’s my true nature
To be the change, transition, transformation, variation... variable
To be nothing and everything
To be nobody and everybody
To be full and to be empty
To be pain and to be laughter
To be the crazy and to be the saint.
To be the One and to be zero
To be day and night, silence and storm, sun and moon
To have all the faces of the world
To be all seasons, all forms of life and death
To be creator and destroyer
To be the Fool and Mystery
To be the master and servant of my soul
To be God and to be amoeba.
Mistress of Paradoxes
I don’t mind how you call me…
I can be your reflection.
My identity is no-identity and all-identity.
This concept also shall pass… it will be taken away from me
And the new point of creation will begin
Forever. And ever.