Going and Becoming

Where we are going and who we want to be

We forget, it’s done through an assumed identity

Trails appear when we grow feet and begin to walk

Nothing really moves besides our noisy inner talk

It is only when we emerge from our civilized half

We become a fixture in the wild, where we can laugh

The remnants of fear can easily slip through the cracks

When our awareness is loose and lax

The truth, when it is left behind

We’re peeled off the core, as if the rind

Time knows, when to stop holding our hands

Where we want to go may not be in its plans

Who do I want to become? The past is asked

An elaborate welcome by the future’s forecast

The paths of going and becoming have heavy traffic

Both are cradled in the smile of silence, it’s so seraphic