What’s in a name?
Is a soul, the body being
Merely the physical manifestation
Or the physical thoroughfare
Through which the soul operates.
Is it the body that bathes
In the sea or the spirit
That drinks in the sensations,
That reacts with thought and feeling
To whatever is seen and heard
And sensed? Why do we
Measure our age in births
And celebrate as though
Age alone was an accomplishment?
It is not. The rocks and stones
On the shore will always
Outdo us in terms of ageing,
And though there may be a
Geological aspect to our being
Who is to say that the soul itself
Ages? Names are words of love
Given with love in times of love.
And yet they have the quality of
Definition, and exhort us to become
Ever more who we are, in your case,
As honest and as clear and bright
As the morning sun, that rises
In all modesty, that sits like a jewel
In the hemisphere bringing warmth
And joy and affection to those
Who bask in its brilliance. So,
Not age in itself, but the process
Of constant refinement as we seek
To perfect the essence of who we are,
Growth without dimension, a gradual
Assumption of our inner truth as we
Discard all that is superfluous to
The wisdom learnt not from years
But from the endless gestures
Of give and take that we call life.