What am I but a speck
of insignificant dust
that floats aimlessly
in the infinite skies
of the cosmic mind!

A bubble that bursts
even before it grows to be one
A thought that's still not a word
A note that's still not a sound
An infnitessimal bit
of the tiniest...

That am I
that spans all
Space and Time
And every other dimension
that's yet to be named
yet to be conceived
infinite and eternal
This now, That then,
and both ever.

To you, my dear,
I appear, maybe,
as a footloose Camel
grin, ****, beard and all.
An unkempt shaggy nomad
smelling of travels and travails
and seemingly carefree
stubborn and eccentric.

Trust me, I'm not me--
at least that's what I think.
(For that matter neither
are you you, I suspect)
All you need is maybe, like me,
to look upward and gaze
at the nightsky
at stars long dead
and meteors dying
when you're already yesterday.

I won't blame you even for a moment though
if you think I'm so and so
who graduated in Chemistry
but went on to be a journo
and then a merchant,
and somewhere in between,
a loving husband and a dad
and a demented wordsmith
tinkering with ideas
with hammer and tongs.
I'd rather give you the benefit of doubt
for I'm seeking the truth myself!