Become Other

A self best perceived through a kaleidoscope 
As every view is as different as the one before it
And it shifts, transforms,
Becomes whatever you want it to be
But only the beholder is privy to its form
As the creature is ignorant of itself
And is cluelessly content.

Fastened to a ball and chain of its own wisdom
Or lack thereof,
It lies in wait, all twisted and grisly inside,
All agreeable otherwise,
For a taste of meaning
But even to this, it defers.
Become something other, but do it over and over.

A desire to change, but born of a fear of it
Or too much of it, or how it comes so easily
Like a shade, shifting in the light;
Never the same, so unclear of what it was
And how easily it takes
From others unlike it:
The aspect of clay.

The shell hardens and breaks
And so the creature dismays
Until its eyes fall shut
And the whispers pray
It took its final breath
Until another crawls out of the carapace
With no knowledge of what it was before.

And so on and so on,
With every rebirth, it loses a bit of its old essence
But its innate nature persists
That of its willingness to reject itself
And become that other
All stained with murkiness,
A likeness without likeness. 

A shattered mirror,
A fistful of clay,
A broken clock,
A poor mimic to the end
But to which end?

To the next end or to the very end?
To the creature:
Become You,
Not that Other.
Pretenders perish,
But do not go asunder
And believe in something other.

The fundamental truth:
There is no other,
There is not even a creature,
There is only you.

The reins lie before you.
Take them and become man.