The Webs Of Heredity
William Faulkner
The past is never dead.
William Faulkner
It's not even past.
William Faulkner
All of us labor in webs spun long before we were born,
William Faulkner
webs of heredity and environment,
William Faulkner
of desire and consequence,
William Faulkner
of history and eternity.
William Faulkner
Haunted by wrong turns and roads not taken,
William Faulkner
we pursue images perceived as new
William Faulkner
but whose providence dates to the dim dramas of childhood,
William Faulkner
which are themselves but ripples of consequence echoing down the generations.
William Faulkner
The quotidian demands of life distract from this resonance of images and events,
William Faulkner
but some of us feel it always.
The Webs Of Heredity
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