ON MY SELF
There’s something that feels,
something that thinks,
Something that eats and something that drinks
Something which says: ‘tis My and only Me:
That something is what I call I.
This I is for Me alone to keep,
Whether I’m awake or asleep.
With its own body and its own face
It’s all alone in the stretch of space.
Yet, it is part of the Cosmic Whole
I know not with or without a goal.
In the world’s very long history
The I has always been a grand mystery.
Spurts of Thought 