The Other Voice

Sometimes I speak to you
You and not you
Time with times unknown
Seasons, eras, epochs

I am you and not you
A tree amidst a field of trees
One tree amidst a series of leaves
Leaves that fall, yet still aware

I am not
No fortune, no name
Bearings not apparent
Always naked

Glory, honor, fame
Thrice in vain
No throne to claim
Not knowing the hour nor the day

Sometimes I speak to you
I see you and feel you
Speak to me,
Know thyself.

—Ramiro