Why have I forgotten who I am? Who I am isn't my name, for my name is nothing more than a tool for separating (distinguishing) me from my fellow brothers and sisters, it's also not what I might do for a living, for that too is not who or what I am, and it's not what continent or country I was born in, for the whole of the (H)eartH is my birthplace, my Home. Who am I then is not a question that can be answered with any certainty. (By your example, there is no answer possible.) Then the question isn't individual, it's collective and we'll not know who We are until We completely unfold and are then revealed, even unto ourselves. (Sounds crazy, Scribbler.) Yet it makes sense, huh? (Oddly enough, yes.) So, who am I has no answer and I've not forgotten, so the only relevant question becomes, who are We? (Oh boy, I need some coffee...) © 2016 Mark Richard Prime
(The Weaver's Song)