Who am I?
Is there a real “I”?
It may all depend on
how others see me,
now and then.
But it also depends on
how I see myself,
now and then.
I look in the mirror.
A face looks back at me.
It’s not someone I,
whoever that I is,
recognize as me.
What I see is simply
an old bony woman
who happens to be looking
in a mirror.
Who am I?
That reflection in a mirror?
There are any number of “I’s,”
that one by one, year by year,
become part of a kaleidoscope,
eidetic images of lives lived.
There’s a six-year old
tramping to school
in the snow.
There’s a young woman
discovering herself,
being discovered,
as companion, wife and mother.
Every so often one of these
countless “I’s”
manifests itself
and then,
with the turn of a wheel,
as in a kaleidoscope,
moves on to the next.
A friend once said
“I feel as if I have lived
many different lives.”
Have we not all?
Sometimes side by side.
Sometimes
back to back.
But always,
always,
the one before
will metamorphosize
into the one that follows.
For who I am,
my “I,”
is none other than
the sum of
all these “I’s.”
Erika Bizzarri 
A kaleidoscope indeed— this is simply marvelous erika, on every level. And i love the foto— where did you take it? Thanks so much for sharing it. Much love, margaret
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Yes, I recognise that puzzling thought. It seems to be an insoluble conundrum. You express it very well Erika!
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❤️
Inviato da iPad
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Bellissima Erika! Very moving and evocative. Brava!
Sent from my iPhone
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Baci to one of my favorite “I”s!
James II
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I have long been drawn to what has seemed like the magic of kaleidoscopes. I would have thought it was their colors and shifts of shape. I’m sure that someone, none of the “I’s” that is me, could explain what makes them work. But you have given me another reason to cherish them.
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