If you look closely, you can see that you are not defined by the world. You are the world. You are the future.

In the tumult of our lives Are pockets of mystery Sparks emanating from Our very souls Intertwined and pulsing

Somehow I always expect that one dayThe doors will speak out to meAnd share their pastLife as it was centuries agoPerhaps they have andI did not listen

The RemnantsWe carry small membranes of memories Within usAs do trees, flowers, stones,All life force around usFragments of memoriesEngraved in chips of iron, copper, silver...Interlaced in the workings of menIntertwined into the streets, buildings The networks around usPathways between agesEach carrying their Remnants of the past

Our lives would not be complete If we did not hold dear The very aspects of What we cannot see or touch Only feel