You will write my name with all the letters,

With all the dates

– but that will not be me.

You’ll repeat what you heard of me

What you read about me, and you will show my picture

– and none of that will be me.

...

We are a unique and complex oneness

Made of many tiny moments

– that would be me.

We’re a thousand pieces, part of a mysterious game,

We come together, we grow apart, eternally

- How will they ever find me?

We’re new and old each day,

Transparent and opaque, depending on the source of light

– we search for ourselves.

And we flow through circumstances,

Light and free as water cascading through stones.

- What metal could possibly hold us back

(CM)