Life, Unbecoming

The self that goes to sleep

Slips our grasp like a silver fish

Into the black tide of forgetting

Its name devoured by the eternal

An identity never to be retrieved

The self that awakes

Escapes from the ocean of silence

Still drenched in dreams

With hands outstretched, cupped, yearning

To capture the dripping of a newborn sun

You are a map of past choices

Your eyes like rivers running backward

Your life, a flower that blooms only once

Like sandcastles surrendering to the tides

Your heart, a wick extinguishing every day

We can choose -

To unfurl our sails consumed by fire

A life unfolding in the art of unbecoming

Or to remain forever stagnant stones

In the riverbed etched by who we once were