Diving into the Ocean of the Self

Yusuf Achmad

Have you ever examined the daily fare in your stomach?
Do you know the killer on the table, calling for you?
The meaning of an empty or full stomach, its questions continue.
If the sea is blue, is it full of moss?
If the sea is deep, is there any gentleness?
I do not let all these questions linger,
But what can I do, they are no longer questions, but the pulsating reality of life.

I still do not know for sure who I am,
I am still confused, still doubtful.
Even though the stench of waste mixes with urine.
I possess it, it sticks to me,
It is a small world, a true replica of the macrocosm.
Not only do religious teachers, priests, monks, or nuns acknowledge it,
Even science, biology, or technology do not deny it.

Moreover, my poem now believes and embraces,
The depth of the sea is akin to the complexity of counting strands of hair.
To know oneself is equal to diving into an ocean of thorny hair.

I stare into a blurry mirror, my face reflected with a twisted smile,
Yet, behind the smile, do I trace myself?
Have I ever explored the soul with a tangled heartbeat,
Seeking deep meaning, like the sea that never recedes.

Surabaya, 8-1-2025