The Master Assassin – Haiku #24

I’m struggling with this ‘self’ of mine. What is it? Can’t get my head around it. I notice it sometimes goes missing. Especially in moments that are completely new, unprecedented and unexpected. Moments in which the earth stands still in her rotation and stops orbiting the sun. Moments in which my shadow always falls behind me. Moments in which the moon has no need to be full. Moments in which the water ripples but moves not.

Moments like the one in which I encountered an adder for the first time in my life:

Warm sand, a snake crosses
Something sees; it’s not me
It blossoms, it breaths *)

And then this ‘self’ pops back into position and starts moving the earth around her axis and around the sun and starts longing for a full moon. I can feel the self tie the rope around my neck and slip the knot just a little too tight just by thinking.

Come to think of it, my self is really a master assassin. It opinionates, it thinks and rethinks, it likes and dislikes, it values, it longs, it lacks and it hurts. It kills what’s there and creates a sub reality so cunningly so, that I take it for real. A second adder won’t do the trick, because it will remind me of the first one and my self will compare this adder with that adder and this experience with that experience, completely killing the moment. Killing it. Killing me with it.

Unless I wont let it. If I untie the rope, take it off, lay it aside. Free my neck, free my breath. See the second adder in its own moment. Allow the earth to stop her turning and circling. Allow my shadow to fall behind me regardless of where the light comes from or where I am going. Allow the moon to be absent if she is not here. Allow waves to stand motionless.

Master Assassin, breathe and play that flute!


Originally in Dutch:
*)
Warm zand, een slang kruist
Iets ziet het; ik ben het niet
Het bloeit, het ademt

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About Jikai

Living a life of blessed less where my feet support my walk and my hands create my story. View all posts by Jikai

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