Erasing my self

 The underself
I began as blank canvas, an icy field sparkling with possibility and fire.
Pieces of life came into being, into focus, and then melted away and below.
The cursed, tragic thread in my life ebbed and flowed with cruel treachery,
Breathing life into parts of my being and then relentlessly drawing them away.
Now the deepness beckons and I turn aside to watch the floes depart.
Clinging to life is futility, immortality only denial and vanity.
So I sort my self, erasing the fleeting and tender in mournful, grateful song.
Erasing our seeming selves willingly, gracefully, we glimpse the vastness beyond.



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