what we do cannot be seen clearly
even in another century
what we do is part of a greater thing
a strand of a memory

here is the color
here is the shuttle
paint the forms
weave the weft

what we say cannot be heard clearly
even in another century
what we say is part of a greater thing
a note of a memory

here are the words
here are the notes
shout the phrases
sing the songs

what we feel cannot be felt
by any other but ourselves
what we see cannot be seen
by any other except in their dreams