?
If the future is set in stone,
and my life is but an old short story,
chiseled into the Rock of Ages;
firmly cemented in the depths of Time,
then who am I that verily treads
upon this spinning earth?
Who is that me?
Who is it that quickens with each and every step?
Who is it that strides beside the fiery shadow of Death?
Who am I that giveth life to this age-old story?
The story – like a road as it layeth down before me.
Uncle Tree's House 