I am not this body, not this mind.
I am this planet,
and that mirror reflection,
staring you back in the face.
I am not an identity,
not some character comprised for your momentary debate.
I am not a consumer, designed solely to buy my way to a
spiritual materialism.
I don't need your coaching nor your pointing out my imperfections.
I am perfectly imperfect and content to simply bee.
I don't need to prove my worth. I don't need to assert a value.
My beeing is enough. My presence is my greatest gift.
I am not a dancer, nor anything that can bee defined.
I am a breath, deep and guttural, emerging from the night.
I am all that I am and I am nothing, a deeply flawed paradox,
I blow through your life.
I am sentient and I am a whisper. I am not here for your consumption,
as an energy for you to suck. I am all that has ever been and I am all that will ever bee.
I am here, now
and I am gone tomorrow.
I am LOVE and I am JOY.
I am timeless and I am ancient.
I am not a product, nor a brand for you to pitch.
I am more than all the gobs of money that your little mind seeks.
I am expansive and ethereal,
I AM.
I am not an object, nor some subject for your reality series.
I AM. I am creative life force, I am infinite and potent.
I cannot bee stopped by bombs and guns, by the toys that your reptilian brain concocts
as it chases death and suicide. I am the plants and the air. I am the ocean and a breeze.
I am wet and I am wanting. I am tired and I am poor.
I am soft and wilting, I am sad and I am grieving.
I am lost and I am found.
I am rich and I am proud.
I cry and I shout,
I AM I AM I AM.
