To forget yourself

these days and nights
the passing seasons
of the marching years
just more of the process
in forgetting yourself
for from thousands
upon millions of burning
lanterns in the shadowy cosmos
their passing and settling of
dust you wear in this world
it's a border you made
to walk away from where
you came and who you are
and yet you walked this way
out of the ocean into the desert
to see what all the fuss was about
to learn from teachers and teach
the lessons that haven't been learned
to light the lanterns not yet burnt
to open eyes that weren't
and to know that when you're ready
to hang your dusty coat on
that hook waiting in the dark closet
at the end of the hall
you will forget yourself