We are people, all of us
Different, each of us
We come from a different place
A different time than some remember

My filter has my own weave
So I drink from history’s river
In my own way as you do in yours

Only the old photos tell the truth
About how we looked, but not
How we thought, and that changes
With each year’s passing

We are the product of a family
We are the outcome of generations
Each contributing to that weave

Like vines, we intertwine
Our stems find purchase with each other
Turning tendrils tight, so nothing’s lost
It’s all mixed up now, you and me

Like lace of rainbow threads
We are each a part of many hues
Yet each conceived from Adam’s rib

Yes, we are people
Different, Each of us
There is so much in that river
We, none of us, can drink it all