The Mother gave me my name. Oh, what a beautiful gift. What a beautiful gift indeed.
Yet, where in my heart can this gift be kept? Where in the altar of my soul can this sacred gift be venerated?
Oh Mother, how can I accept such a gift
when my true name was uttered in silence?
Yet, how can I turn such a gift down?
Beloved Mother, what a difficult situation you have placed me in. To be offered That which you yourself know is unneeded.
Yet, to come from You, what a blessing, what a form of love.
I have no name, for sounds cannot capture me.
I have no name, for words cannot understand me.
Anything I try to say about myself is only going to be an approximation. Yet sadly, this approximation is as vast as night and day.
What is my name?
The name that all beings share.
Who am I to have a name of my own?
What am I to assert myself within a sound?
When I have heard Her speak my true name, what else is needed?
When I have heard my true name uttered within the sacred halls of infinity, what else is there to be said?
Yet it is within this play, that my name can be spoken.
Within this divine play, your true name is embraced.
From this place, the name placed within the altar of my soul can be properly venerated.
From this placed the gift bestowed upon me by Mother can be truly put to use.