I am the Buddha

I am not the fantastical destination
I fervently dream of.
I am not the sonnet
I fondly recite to my daughter
about the flight of dragonflies 
in a gold-dust meadow
during the shimmering crepuscular hours. 

I am not the music I jive to,
I am not the jokes I laugh at,
I am not my weaknesses nor my fears,
I am not my impulses nor my addictions,
I am not my passions nor my desires,
I am not the land I come from,
I am not the sky I dwell under,
I am not my friends, I am not my faith,
I am not my beliefs, nor my philosophy,
I am not my flesh & blood,
I am not the pounding of my heart.

In the path of a meandering stream,
I am the stillness of a smoothened pebble
and the moss on its surface.
In an age of a thousand thunders,
I am the reassuring calm
and the silence of healing. 

I am the unknown,
I am the comfort of the unknown,
I am the journey of the unknown.
I am the transience,
I am the permanence. 
I am the only constant
across all the infinite universes.