I was born a human;
Of the average kind, a specimen;
Childhood aspirations were aplenty,
To become a yeoman, a swordsman, a bowman;
And I dreaded perchance becoming
A conman, a doorman or a barman;
Youth had its own delusions and dreamt
Of being an airman, a seaman or a showman;
A few talents raised visions
Of leading a life as a craftsman;
Middle-age found me slotted in a niche
And I rose up the ladder to be a helmsman;
But was otherwise essentially a layman;
At times, to frighten children, a bogeyman;
. . . Then there was a call . . .
And I realized that I was only a point of consciousness and no man;
This insight made me a new man;
I glimpsed a realm that was beyond God and Mammon;
Now, some call me a madman,
While others believe I am a shaman;
Being neither, I am just me, a man.