Where are you in the creation of your own puzzle
How many pieces have you found
And do you like the picture that is appearing
Or are you constantly rearranging
Thinking it could never fit like this
I've been at it for a while
Picking up pieces while losing others
And I don't think the holes that appear
Could ever be filled
So what meaning do I subscribe to that
How do I add it all up to see the sum of my parts
How do I make sense of a story
When the only things constant
Are change
And that from start to finish
The name it carries is one I call my own
A life made up of memories
Collections of recollections
Inhaled and expelled like breaths
Passing to the ticking of clocks
Through tunneled passages of time
Sometimes I wonder
If they become ingrained as lines
Forming adornments on the halls of history
Curving and bending
And if someone walks along them
Recounting the tale of a universe
My story a story among billions of others
Just a chapter in the grand book of life
What would it be like
To read it all in one go
To see it all unfold
Neatly in order, row by row
And have the meaning laid out for you
What then would you know