Your life is like a pebble in the instant when

it pierces the surface of a pond, while time

stretches through infinity, both forwards and back

beyond the limits of your imagination. And

only in that moment, as the pebble breaks the tranquility

of smooth waters, do you exist. What will you have done

with that instant? How will your legacy of ripples

expand long after you are gone, sunk to the bottom

with the mound of pebbles that have come before?