I think therefore I am
At least I think so
As thoughts ebb and flow
When am I and when am I not
Flotsam from life’s wreckage crash over me
And just as quickly retreat
From liquid to solid and then back again
Leaving an investiture of dreams
Filled with trash and treasure
From whatever direction deemed

In shimmering strands of gossamer thread
Silk worms elect to make their beds
Spinning sheets from water falls
While reposing in tepid springs
Finally alighting in summer
To the steady drip of candle wax
Each drop moulded patiently
In the residing doctor's hands
And positioned so carefully
That not even I understand

Around my neck they hang
My personal beads
My ancestry
Both of pride and shame
Both unique and the same
A random series of events
A threaded chain of change
Ignorantly treasured and passed down
Some tarnished others clean
Yet everyone is part of me