Gray flecks of history scattered the face of this particular tungsten rock. The precise date of origin was unknown, even to the sturdy entity. It knew more about the world than the meteors, with the ability to recite poems on the ever changing seasons. One day a vast rainfall came and unearthed a limb it had never seen before. Confusion hung all around as it asked itself, "Is that a part of me?" Days passed as the question remained unbothered. One summer day, the rock unfroze from a state of perplexity and found reprise in it's thoughts. "Although I have just learned about parts of my own that once felt unknown, I have remained. For better or worse, I must move forward with such a new appendage. I am a never ending collection of parts that make a whole."