Filius

are we nothing more than someone's son, the sum of our parts, an equation, unbalanced inside of history, lives on loan from those who came before, the unfinished fate of forefathers, or are we infused with something more, the spark which defines itself and us, do we justify their existence, all our spirits, are they separate, can we claim even this as our own, is it all just a question of firsts, what if I should die before my time, will my story find the light of day, a fate forever overshadowed, by peers and the context of the time, what is more precious than our essence, can it be ours if not separate, if souls unify in common blood, can anything new be imparted, does this make sharing impossible, and with it our life's validity, must we shake off the constraints of self, to rise above our limitations, our identity is tied to truth, are we prepared to meet the mirror, how can we commune with each creature, if no name exists to call them forth, if we know not to which we belong must nature nurture's enemy be, what begot this life sustaining love, is it from without and from within, am I capable of renewing, or furthering my own existence questions that stimulate no action, are nothing but unfinished bridges, roads that provide access not entry