When I was young
they all said, 'This is Iain'.
Believing them, shining eyed,
with curly dark hair and my face
turned just so,
I looked out in the world, happily
building up a portfolio of identity
as the years rolled by,
thinking myself apart.
This certainty of being Iain,
left unasked the question,
like a still stone unthrown
beside a forest pool,
'Who am I? '
Sometimes in a gentle mood,
a tree would wave,
a stream would come alive and
murmur messages,
and sudden birds flying by
raised riddles.
Who am I?
Clearly, I am not my house or car,
or even my beloved violin.
I am not my clothes, nor shoes
nor, honestly considered inside closed eyes,
am I this body.
Flowing inwards
I am not my ideas,
while emotions are colored flags
simply thought-woven, and
all actions, every single detailed one,
are my thoughts' willing slaves.
All these bear my signature
but they are not
who I am
as I search inwards
where nothing is
with the recognition there
of a being
closer than my breath.
Noticing my searching stillness,
silent awareness pervades me,
sweetly waiting for a nod, a look,
a heart-felt conversation
from you.
I have known you all along in quiet moments,
even for a lifetime of ignorance
not knowing what to call you,
when, through the air
of an intimate surrounding glade,
you look and smile and nod at me
in kind, silent approval.
You are my essence,
a god who is the heart of the world
who has loved and cared for me
through all my life.
In this light there is no Iain
nor world, only
the all-transcendent one,
the radiant being of all,
to which, sweet heart, all-praise.
Ian Trousdell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/awareness-i-have-known-it-all-along/
