Dominique Didinal, a recent graduate of the Hridaya Teacher Training Course, shares the following poem:
Who Am I?
I am the heat that cracks stone and the ice that splits the river’s mouth.
I am the earth that curves under the embrace of sunlight and
the shimmer of moon on a silent night.
I am the soft dollop of snow falling from branches deep in the woods and the shadows of
light that sift through the leaves.
I am an empty house when the owner has died and the furniture gone and
the invisible bonds that still trace their shape, and his, in the air.
I am the force that whispers “grow” into each ear of corn and
the scythe that cuts them down again.
I am the soapy swirl of stars in the milky way and
I am the pockets of darkness between,
I’m both the pinpricks of light and the spaces
unlooked for, unseen.
I am the words on the page and
the whiteness between.
I am your thoughts, every single one, and
I am none of them.
I am wild horses. The glitter of their eyes, the wet shine of their flanks
and the spray from the sea as their hooves thunder the beach.
I am the sweet burst of juice in the bite of the peach, the almond at its heart
and the worm in its skin.
I am in this heart and yours and the old man on the street that polishes shoes by the roadside
and the widow alone, that weeps herself to sleep.
I am the echo in the air after your name has been called, the footprints on the path
after the long walk home.
I am the wet, longing ache between your legs as your lover awaits and
the soft dent in the bed left from his back once he leaves
I am all of this and I am none of this.
I am the sweetness in the sky on an early morning walk and
the space in your heart before your mind starts to talk.
I am the mighty genie contained in the tiny lamp of your body and
the glitter of Dorothy’s red shoes that whisper “you had the power all along my dear.”
I’m a soft scoop of ice-cream on a hot sunny day and a blue note in a happy song.
I am “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” and
“A Hard Day’s Night” when you’ve been “working like a dog.”
I’m the whirl in the air after a ballerina’s pirouette and
the final chord of a Tchaikovsky minuet.
I am the whole of the blue green globe turning under the sun, burning under the sun.
I am your sex and your sorrow,
Your pain and your glory
Your daring your delight
Your death and your decay.
I am the “sound and the fury that signify nothing” and
I am stillness
I am the siren call of your heart beckoning your home and
I am silence.
I am you and you and you
and you and you and you and
I am me.
I am We.
And
We are God.
