The I that believes it's the doer of deeds While having various and multiple needs
The "I" that thinks it has free will A mind that surely wont keep still The I that fears death and taxes But forgets it self when it relaxes
The I that's in the habit of acquiring Right up until the date of expiring
OR The general I of beingness and support For all those illusions ever sort While Itself it is an ephemeral object It's the foundation of all we collect The sage has said it's a useful tool To pry open the door of eternal cool The way to freedom is to embrace The sense of presence without a face
OR The undying source of I That cant be found if we try
That seeing I that has no seer It's like a ghost that wont appear The substructure of what is true We cannot know unless we're through This flame that never had a name And ABSOLUTE-ly is the same
