Today, I am thankful for contradictions and riddles. This poem states several. Somehow, they all make sense to me.
I am not I.
I am this one
walking beside me whom I do not see,
whom at times I manage to visit,
and whom at other times I forget;
who remains calm and silent while I talk,
and forgives, gently, when I hate,
who walks where I am not,
who will remain standing when I die.
For this blessing, I am grateful.