My Many Selves

Adrift in sweet reverie while composing my journal I sense myself wandering streets in solemn austerity 'Tis such a blunt shift from my usual musings nocturnal To what do I owe this odd disturbing disparity? In this vision I plod narrow alleys austere A familiar dream within I-him I'm now aware Presently it has become abundantly clear We are one, he and I, as our souls we bare In a flash the scene shifts to daybreak vernal and bright In calm balmy bliss on guitar Bassa nova I-he strum Dark angry clouds lift, azure clouds gleam bright from whence have these diverse me phantoms come? With a will I submit to my encyclopedia self as inner projection reveals the multitudes I contain Much more engaging than the one-I volume gathering dust on the shelf My enigmatic space-time selves shall always remain