Mercury

An opaque silver grey
A running ball, a liquid metal
Not solid, Not organic
So metallic, yet unlike
A well-formed pure Copper kettle :
It is Mind like, uncatchable, there and
Not there, known Not, even to itself
Or another. Placed on a glass plate. 
It runs, unshaped, like an Amoeba
In many directions, all at once
Changing shape from moment to moment
Akin to a wandering Mind
In idling mode, wondering
What elemental thought, object or idea
It should latch on to next
To try and smother its restlessness
Looking for a quietened fulfilment
That satisfies its thirst of wanting
To know itself and its nature ;
A  Non-Binary slips through your fingers like water