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“I contain multitudes’ – Walt Whitman

There comes a time we realise and feel
a lack of linearity within and confused
we stumble through our memories as if to excavate
the shape and form of who we are
from what we’ve been
But like a ghost unto ourselves
our pasts present the multitudes
of chosen paths and abandoned possibilities
and nothing more, nothing more

What is I, what is the form and being
that inhabits my thoughts and body?
Does it exist as something separate, inviolate
or does it merge with the all in ways
that blind belief in individuality shields
from my weary eyes?
Can I proclaim that I remain
an entity of separate form and matter
or in multitudes do I swim
another cell in an unseeable
and unknowable large schema
and nothing more, nothing more?

(c. ) Helen Valentina 2018