An organism that grows on tree bark experiences life differently than does a long-winged migratory bird, yet the same spark animates both.

This self, this unique lived being, is the product of a certain time, a certain place, a certain body, a certain birth. Alas, this is just for the once, a thing that comes and lives and then goes. Then the spark of life moves on to its next body.

Your particular flavor and odor and essence, your sense of humor and your honest honor, will be turned under, once your produce is ripe. Then time will change, and even a clone of you would never again be the same.

May the liver love, and the lover live!