I sit here alone in the centre of the map
The map of my heart.
I am living it,
I am being it,
I am it.
Where is the demarcation line
between the inner and the outer?
The lines of the map,
As I see them now,
Dwindle and disperse.
So many roles and ways of being are now no more.
So many things have ended, changed.
I sit in the centre,
The void between the lines.
I can no longer say,
I am a this,
I am a that.
I could say that I am nothing
A zero on blank page
I have no job,
I am a not primary caregiver,
I am not a primary relationship,
I am not a this,
I am not a that.
I could say I am zero
Then again I could change the way I think.
I could say the zero is a circle
– the Zen circle of pure being.
I listen to the wind blow,
I gather my resources,
I move my mind and learn to sit in the circle
The seed place
I slip back to zero again and again and again.
I see myself as a face you’d pass in a crowd then forget.
Then, for a brief instance, I sit in the circle
– the beginning place