Becoming

Becoming asks me infinite questions
that I answer incompletely.
It never begins and never ends with a continuous choice:
Who will you become?

I will be smart, I told Becoming,
And Becoming answered me,
Yes, you will analyze the basic parts of matter.
But will you understand what really matters?
Will you analyze hydrogen two oxygen til your heart ices over,
Never looking (out) beyond your ivory tower,
To see the drought-parched dirt where hour by hour
By hour by hour your neighbors fall faint of thirst?

But I will be compassionate, I told Becoming,
And Becoming answered me,
Yes, you will see the people walking around with their broken hearts,
But will you hear that their broken hearts are still beating?
Or will you plan funerals for their poor souls,
And bury their memory
while mourning your own bleeding heart?

But I will be just, I told Becoming,
And Becoming answered me,
Yes, you will witness and testify, represent and arbitrate,
But if your glass courthouse shatters,
will you recognize you were among those throwing the bricks?
Or will you plead innocent to the charges of accomplice,
And, holding yourself in contempt of court,
Flee, imprisoned by your own hypocrisy?

But I will be honest, I told Becoming,
And Becoming answered me,
Yes, you will ascend the path of authenticity,
But will you dare to stand exposed when you reach the mountain face,
To shout your naked truths into the frigid wind,
Or will your shouts remain in stillborn silence,
Suffocated by the safety of self-censorship?

But I will be courageous, I told Becoming,
And Becoming answered me,
Yes, you will take Fear by the hand and lead her onto the dance floor,
Will you embrace? Will you let her go?
Or convinced you’re in control,
will you stumble when she leads
you to reconsider your abilities?

But I will be humble, I told Becoming,
And Becoming answered me,
Yes, you will labor countless unnoticed nights,
But will the darkness dim your sight of what your work means in the light?
Or will your eyes, resigned to dark, meet the dawn without remark?

But I will be patient, I told Becoming,
And Becoming answered me,
Yes, you will craft yourself into the world as a living masterpiece,
Exquisitely unique yet obviously unoriginal,
Like a tenderly written love letter to the world,
Because Becoming is that question that teaches without answers
And Becoming is that lover we never meet,
It is our own infinitely unanswered question:
Who am I becoming today?