With a shift, an inkling, concepts dropped
and I was all of my true name.
I felt etched in moving water.

I streamed me, was as water frozen,
as water falling, water drifting
as fog, as cloud.

I was mini-singular, H2O.

My two hydrogen rabbit ears
danced five different ways,
and my oxygen laughed and sang,
(what a fabulous team!)

Sundried, now as the clock struck noon,
I found my feet and stood.
I built myself of basaltic rock.

Tower of Babel–polyglot soundings
in cyclic revision spoke intelligence,
spiraling I was.

I inverted. I apt dived down
and in my transitions,
I grew rounded and hollowing.

I was Earth. I was Center.
Was Sun at Earth Center

where timeless pinpoint passages
snatched me home again.

O, boundlessness.
I have no name.