[This poem was inspired by the above photo. This sculpture was made by Nathan Sawaya, whose website is http://www.BrickArtist.com]
What makes me? It isn’t my body.
A mirror is not me, so says the literati.
My arm is not me, neither is my heart-
(Although, if I lost it, finding Me would be hard).
My actions are not me; I’m not a machine.
That I am only my deeds seems slightly obscene.
Am I my ideas? My original thoughts?
But everything I make has, in some sense, been taught.
Could I be emotions? No, that is not truth;
I’m not just a reaction of chemical juice.
Am I only flesh? I say that’s unjust.
I am more than meat, and much more than dust.
I have life in me, but how fragile it is!
I cannot understand any more than this.
What makes me? Is it my soul?
What about my spirit? What makes me whole?
I have 4-D questions in a 3-D realm;
My mind does not stretch, and I’m overwhelmed.
No answer to this question: what can I be?
Deep inside myself, I find only me.
Original poem by Kiwi.
If you like it, let me know! Have a great day. 😀