If the voice of creation is continuous,
then the voice must be a song.
If the voice of creation is a song,
then the song must be of names.
A voice, a song, a lament: a list of names
of entire lives preserved in their pronunciations,
in their combined letters sung in chorus together,
sung only to remember their names and the whole
of life each letter contains, universes holding
galaxies, lives as lists, creations as lists, all the lists
come down to this list of all lists, the list of names
of those who put their names aside
of those who leave voids inside
a list that spans all of history, all of memory,
this list of all of them is a list of lists
holy to the last of them, the next of them,
for this list is continuous song,
as continuous as creation,
every name sung up on high in praise,
because this list of who was,
is a list of who forever is.
Photo by Caleb Woods on Unsplash
