The Obliteration of the Golden Vase, the One we think we are.
The wise one who sat and watched toughts float by.
Only to realise that s/he is not alone in doing the Watching.
The sudden realisation of the meaning of “I”.
Starting to think of that whenever the word is mentioned.
Only one letter in a whole alphabet?
No wonder I feel stuck!
The Gratitude at being served this knowledge.
When I not long ago was believing something entirely different.
That the vase was alive.
That I had somehow to fill it.
Or at least show off some good flower(s).
When there is nothing to change at all.
Throwing that cherished vase into the wall though!
Will that really be necessary?
No need to!
It is already starting to look like a vase that only once