Here’s a little poem I’ve been kicking around for a while:
These words need not die
Though the original medium will perish.
In your mind this moment they live,
And wait to come alive again in any copy
Just as I have copied them from others
And they have lived again through me.
It’s based partly on the obvious observation of the importance of copying in our lives: we are built out of copies of genes, growing our bodies through cell division, arising from cells linked across billions of years by copying; we copy language and culture from those around us as we grow; we copy the world around us in representations in our mind that are a part of us, including the words of others around us.
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