Who Am I

A thought came to my mind
Introspection was its kind
I started thinking 'Who am I'
Pondering with a deep sigh

To God, I went and asked
Your question he said was masked
He said it lacked the zest
Let the question become a quest

I contemplated even more
But all I got was bored
I let go everything in frustration
And gave my mind a vacation

Suddenly I realized in awe
The things I never saw
My being was burning with quest
In 'Who am I' I felt the unrest

I approached God once more
To hear the divine galore
You tell me he said
Of what stuff are you made?

Sometimes I feel I am this
Other times I feel I am that
I am utterly confused I said
I don't know what stuff I am made

Ponder little more he said
You will catch the thread
This or that will change in time
Find out who you were all this while

I jumped in joy and exclaimed
Now I know of what I am made
This and that are the objects
And I am the observer witness

Don't conclude so fast he said
Use intelligence as your aid
Witness disappears in sleep or swoon
Its just a finger pointing to the moon

If I am not the subject
And I am not the object
What is it that remains
For me to make a claim?

The witness you are not
The object you are not
You are that declutched space
Which is the supreme base

How to know this space
Oh God, please shower your grace
The more I try to know
The farther that I go

Just don't try to know
Be declutched and you will grow
To experience the consciousness flow
In the divine show

Declutched I try to be
Whenever I remember to see
Waiting for the ego to peel
For the God in me to reveal