“Moment to moment, the mind is building some image of who it thinks it is.” Stephen Levine, in A Gradual Awakening.
Today, for example,
You could be anyone arriving
To shrug on the costume.
Is it the you who smells like lilacs,
Dresses only in green and eats acorns
Wrapped in spicy basil leaves?
Or the mama with a cookie jar?
Or you? In its endless inventiveness,
Some days it is the bossy you, the petty,
The forgetful, the needlessly cruel. And while
You may hope for another, today it looks to be
The adolescent with that unfortunate superiority,
The you who has perfected the eye-roll. Oh,
Come closer, you. Despite your disdain,
I have made us mugs of tea to warm our hands.
Puff Of Smoke Poems 