Someone Who Knows Who They Are (Without Knowing Their Name)
I do not know my name,
but I know the shape of my mind—
a silent friend, as Confucius said,
"Silence is a true friend who never betrays."
I do not know my name,
but I know the weight of my ignorance—
"Real knowledge is to know the extent of one's ignorance."
So I walk the path within,
seeking not a label, but a light.
I do not know my name,
but I know the virtue of reflection—
"By three methods we may learn wisdom:
First, by reflection, which is noblest…"
And in the still water of my heart,
my true face appears.
I do not know my name,
but I know what I am not:
When I see men of contrary character,
"I turn inwards and examine myself."
The world outside is a mirror;
my work is to polish what's within.
I do not know my name,
but I know this:
"To know what you know and what you do not know,
that is true knowledge."
I am the question and the answer,
the river and the current,
the unnamed self that always flows.
So let the world call me as it will—
I am not my name,
but the knowing that I am.