A ship by any other name

Once upon a time, there was a ship 

without a name, that left its port

encircled Earth, returned again,

from ocean to mouth of that river. 

Replaced, repaired, where wood had been

splintered, lost, remade the shape - 

called Theseus' Ship, its owner's name

and since, we've asked if it's the same

as one that sailed so long ago

from that port at the mouth of that river. 

 But what of questions yet unasked?

While we wonder after a ship

with each and every beam replaced,

Yet what of Theseus?

Was he not changed?

Does his name still mean the owner?

Does ownership slip if you've gone and grown different?

If taken apart, observed, polished, discarded

replaced, or rewarded,

the parts of yourself that you had,

and you have, is it still you who has them?

Let anyone saying different

establish that they are the same

person from start to end

of a single sent

ence 

And what of the name? 

I'm thinking perhaps it's not the riddle, but askers

who've lost sight of the ship

whether same or different -

- consider we never remember the name of the ship,

but only its owner's 

Perhaps the thing that does not change

is that the ship knows its own name

I don't claim that the name stays unchanged,

but just that it's not we who know it. 

(

And this poem: not these words, but this poem

has endured visions, revisions, moments, reverses

It's been a long trip 'round the sun

since you asked for a poem for your birthday

Am I the same person who'd already been writing?

Is this the same Earth that we stood on last year?

Uncountable water hurtles

out from the mouth of the shape of the river.

A ship returns

Reaching embrace of the ocean.

This poem is for you.

This poem is for you.

This poem is for you. 

)