In streams of light I clearly saw The dust you seldom see, Out of which the Nameless makes A Name for one like me… All busy in the sunlight The flecks did float and dance, And I was tumbled up with them In formless circumstance. – The human mind delights in finding pattern — so much so that we often mistake coincidence or forced analogy for profound meaning. No other habit of thought lies so deeply within the soul of a small creature trying to make sense of a complex world not constructed for it.