The Joy of Unbecoming

When we were born

We were born to die

The wailing of our first breath

Implies the weeping of the last

 

Then we start becoming

We must become someone

Someone becomes a daughter

Someone becomes a son

Someone became something

That something is a mask

 

The mask becomes the mission

Mis’ry becomes like hope

It is in our darkest hours

A missive to look in

 

We become what we’ve rejected

We tear apart life and love

Hate is all we’re giving

Death is growing near

The truth is not so pretty:

We’re everything we fear

 

Who am I? Seems a proper question

It can become the key

A locked door opens to darkness

The loneliness became so loud

And how that soundtrack is playing

When we start to look around

 

Who is it you are hearing?

Who is thinking these thoughts now?

Who created all your problems?

Who made you this way?

Who’s asking all these questions?

Who am I, and who’s to say?

 

In surrendering to stillness

In the silence of your heart

The truth begins to whisper

I am not the stories

I am not the lies

I am not the mask

I am not behind your eyes

 

Your eyes have deceived you

Because you became a mask

You’re a shell of empty plastic

A clump of walking decay

You became separation

You became unglued

Masks can be buried

Faces forgot in time

We traded our salvation

To become a living lie

 

As the mask continues rotting

The soul begins to shine

Destruction becomes creation

Someone became nothing

As no one becomes divine

 

Nothing and no one become one

One truth inside the darkness

One truth to set us free

One truth unties a thousand lies:

 

I am infinite wisdom

What is eternal cannot die