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The Division of Names

  • Sun Zuka
  • Feb 27
  • 2 min read

Language shapes how we see the world. We carve it up with words, assigning names to things, drawing lines where there were none. It gives us order, meaning, a sense of control—but what happens when those names begin to bind us? When the labels we cling to become more of a cage than a comfort?


I believe labeling is the original sin—not in a religious sense, but in the way it creates the first fracture in our perception of reality. The moment we name something, we separate it from the whole. We say, this is this, and that is not, drawing boundaries where there were none. And with separation comes suffering—division, limitation, the loss of something infinite.


The Division of Names is a poem on the impermanence of all things, the illusion of fixed identity, and the vast, shifting reality beyond the words we use to define it. It invites us to loosen our grip, to embrace the flow of existence without the need to pin it down. Because in the end, we are not the names we bear—we are something far greater, something infinite.


The Division of Names poem - Sun Zuka


The Division of Names

We carve the world with words and lines,

divide the vast with boundless signs.


This is this, and that is not,

a fleeting truth so soon forgot.


Yet what we name is never still,

shifting forms by unseen will.


Call the river by its name,

but watch—it’s never quite the same.


Again, again, the mind divides,

splitting oneness into sides.


We cling to names as if they last,

though all things slip, become the past.


A label binds, a label chains,

it marks, it separates, it pains.


It tells us who and what to be,

yet blinds us to infinity.


For omni moves in endless streams,

beyond the shapes, beyond the dreams.


It flows through faces, time, and space,

unfixed, untamed, a vast embrace.


To fight the change is to resist,

to grasp at mist with tightened fist.


The form will shift, the name will fade—

release, and you are unafraid.


So let the labels fall apart,

unbind the self, unchain the heart.


For what you are needs not a name—

a flicker, whole, within the flame.

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