I am yet not

I am not the words, the dot on the page
The wisdom of yore that takes shape

I am not even the thought that drives
Even less so the desire that overtakes

I'll admit to the heart on this occasion
Bruised and battered -- aching, wanting
The love that logic failed, flung by ire

Renewed, I leave the shadows in between.
Beyond the projection where conjecture lies
Is the spirit that pushes me forward

I am that understanding of me, of you
That floods the body, the thoughts

The light that brightens and burns,
A composite of fire and ice.

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