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What's in a Name? 
                                                    by Preston Hill

 
The Sun gives birth to dawn. We meet for the first time. We introduce. What’s your name?

We chat respectfully- all the while the sun continues to rise. 

To think that once long ago in the cradle of humankind an idea sparked knowledge. 

Testing, poking, prodding the mind, pushing thought into expression.

What was then an idea to be spoken was finally written down. 

Pictograms on cave walls, diagrams of the hunt, the battle.

Pictograms on clay pots depicting commerce from a life long ago.

Pictograms on parchments that develop shapes, gestating onward to the formation of letters, words, ideas.

Of contracts, agreements, mortgages, governments, constitutions, proclamations.

Pictograms on chalkboards, blackboards, whiteboards on which an idea will be conveyed.

And children learn, apprentices advance, executives and politicians chart budgets and trends.

Pictograms on buildings, bridge abutments, railway cars declaring “This place is ours”.

And as ideas spread so did humankind. Wars and peacetime. Love and hate. Dignity and honor.

All emotion within passed from one generation to the next as the sun climbs higher in the sky.

And on one small piece of ground a family, a clan, a tribe, a village began to grow giving titles to their neighbors in relation to their geography. 

Mr. Rock, Mr. Hill, Mr. Rivers greeted with a jaunty wave of the hand. 

Then John had a son. Then Samuel had a son. Then Lars had a son. 

Yearning for identity, Mr. Cooper, Mr. Smith and Mr. Baker began to teach their trades and build a future, contributing to the economy and serving others.

Soon, the village grew into a town, the town into a city. Nations and states formed and families, clans, tribes and cultures pooled together with separate and distinct idiosyncrasies.

In every language and aspect ideas spread, carrying seeds from the beginning.

Leaving their expectations, hopes, fears and dreams imprinted on the pages of history.

And as the sun reaches its apex, I look at my watch. You ask me, “What’s in a name?”.

I reply, “The world”, then smile politely and change the subject.
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