I Am Fraction

Do we dream,
or are we dreamt?

Mind is iceberg
in sea of thought
mostly out of sight
and out of mind as well,
having frailty of all sculpture:
dependency on memory
of its myriad other faces.

How can we be less than all
of what we are?
Of three dimensions
two are on the surface
of the mirror, so to speak,
smiling for the camera
to flatten one of us.
Elsewhere we are many more
uncaptured, otherwise committed.

Allow one hundred portions each
arbitrarily.
Allot in any given time
to consciousness a share
of less than that,
majority perhaps,
if not: minority,
changing daily like the chance of rain.
Deficit demands accounting
Where is the rest of me, one asks,
(or should if one considers it)
how otherwise engaged, and where?

While some of me is here in my attention
the rest is not, yet still a part of me
abroad on other, unknown business
foreign to the job at hand.