Who am I
if not the sum of my parts
Who are we
if not the total sum of our parts
What am I
if not comprised of elemental matter
Who are we
if not made of the same atoms and electrons
as everything else in creation
Does it matter what consciousness may be
First we must ask what matter may happen to be
If happening to be best describes matter itself
And we remind each other that being continues to happen
Then mattering describes our consciousness in action
And happening may continue to remind each one of us
That the mirror of consciousness may reflect this occurence
Against the inner screens of our respective mind's eyes
Forcing us to recognize that our identities may be redefined
Because what we are cannot be limited by our own perceptions
But instead remains manifested here within this spinning stellar crucible
Dictated by electromagnetic forces established before and beyond our comprehension
So that ultimately we can at least all agree that regardless of what we may each happen to believe
Our own progeny's offspring will continue to propagate and flourish for as long as we're able
To maintain a self-sustainable environment necessary for the harboring of our collective survival
So while we continue to think we're separate from the bedrock of starlight and keep differntiating
Between blood and electricity and metal and flesh we'll still be honoring the curse which struck
Once upon a time long ago like a bolt from the sky which paralyzed our capacity to understand
The difference between glass and sand as well as sky and land and madness and our own hands
Amounts to a sudden thunderbolt struck from above to alter the polarities flowing down here below
And the commonality between clouds and snow and vapor and ice and molten rock and polished steel
Equals that which we can discern between the imaginary and the real and the reason for this stands
By the underlying foundation at the quantum level of universal operations where the concrete walk
Beneath our feet was manufactured by our predecessor's dreams and if you or I cannot see this clearly
We'll merely be relegated to our normal function which allows us to proceed into the unfolding future
Without interruption and with nary a suture or stitch out of place while the overwhelming abundance
Of our meticulous evolving chaos becomes fine tuned by an even greater orderliness whose shape
Graces the outlines of the photo impressions behind our eyes while seeing clearly the design
Imprinted on our world from the very dreams and imagination of our forefathers and mothers
Before us who stood up straight against the tantalizing brightness of all the constellations overhead
Still flickering and twinkling the long ago echoing final stanzas of their great collective song
Whose tonal impressions are yet being picked up by the sensitive pores of our skins together
Sewn as the great overcoat clothing the sentient engine of our expanding world's membrane
Caught up in a major thermodynamic energy recycling structure which remains towering over
Our continuing legacy whose shadow leans back from the stars' light to come just to erase us
Repeatedly from the slate of existence so our super removed descendants may yet be reminded
Of their own fading memory destined to coalesce overhead for them as the winking shining mantle
Flickering beyond their capacity to reach in the form of countless pinpoints of light each one
Representing a spectral grave marker like a solitary candle flame lingering on as that final vestige
Of our own past existence as an almost silent reminder to our host of daughter's children
That their own best interests involve a renewed focus on their own world in time
So that they may remember after we've all been swallowed up here into the dark
Together that there's no need for looking away from themselves or each other
In order to truly make contact with beings from any other world of a star
Because that interaction has always been taking place regardless
Of how much our imaginations may spill over and leak
Into the cracks in between our shifting electrons
Producing Rorschachian shadow plays
Gesturing and mocking our own hidden
Fears coalescing from ignorance
Into fertile nightmares that keep
Us on our toes so to speak
So let us repeat to ourselves
Every chance that we get
If consciousness matters
Across time's strange space
Then those colorful whispers
Reaching our skin from the stars
Are just gentle reminders
We are who we are
And we continue as
I am and what our
Parts are will be
the total sum if not
just who we happen
to be as only one part of
Who I am that is we.
