Pseudo Individual

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The air that surrounds my being,
The sunlight that exposes my disposition,
Illusioned the looker seeing distinction.
The food I devour,
All of the world, all of this,
Is part with me.
My form is gatherness,
Of all the cosmic existence.

How can I be me,
Without the earth that beds what fuels me?

How can I be,
one distinct, cut off?
When the rain hydrates me,
When my ideals are a bit of his and hers,
When the universe has conditioned my existence,
When the earth is an element in me,
Ever ready to receive me,
To disintegrate me.
When fire is my form when my heart burns?

How can I be,
Without the universe not being?
Without its balance and dual?
How can I, perceive I, as individual?

I'm everything which is not me.
I'm the entire universe in gatheredness,
And it, me in scatteredness.
My form is supported,
My being is aided,
My existence is elevated,
For I'm evidence of the vastness,
Of the entire universe in it.
It mirrors me as I mirror it.

My separateness is an illusion.
For all child of Man is one,
In segmented one gene.
With the history of Man I learned the -ism,
That begot my pseudo individualism.

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