It’s all been different
It’s all been the same
It’s all been anonymous
It’s all had a name

It all had a beginning
It all has an end
Its truth lost in winning
Its game of pretend

And we search for the answer
And we question profane
And we blame it on providence
And we smother the flame

As we look toward the horizon
As we look past the shore
As the waves crash with meaning
  —now as then, and before

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)