Flight of I*

My I changes
Its shape
With light
It
Sheds tears
With music
Poetry
Sadness and beauty

My I hides
When scared
Threatened
Or tired
It
Tries not to
Move away
From ugliness
Evil or disgrace

My I registers
What it sees,
Tries to freeze
The flow
But
It's an illusion:
Nothing can stop
The continuum

My I can only pause
Between flights
And
Grounded by the landing
Make a momentary interruption
On that intermediary strip
Of convergence
And reflection:
The space for intersection
Between dream and reason

* The title of this poem is taken from the title of an album by American jazz saxophonist David S. Ware.