It is through events and at gatherings

That the meaning of time is understood.

As we pack together in a huddle,

Time passes us by and yet it connects

And joins us as one, like links in a chain,

When we combine, as indistinct as rain.

 

Sixty years ago, I was in a crowd,

Some of whom were there sixty years before;

This summer I see some with years ahead.

This cycle continues, interrupted

Only by respect and a minute’s pause,

By private tears and the public’s applause.

 

With thousands in one place, time overlaps;

Oh, the subtle sweetness of transmission,

As generations swap their tales and myths.

Memories do not die with their owners;

Absent all devices, the past lives on,

Long after its inventors will have gone.