It’s not the towers built of steel and glass,
Or the everything also simisai world class.
It’s not the F-15s, racing through the sky,
Or the soldiers ready, smartly marching by.
It’s not a mega-trillion reserves somewhere,
Or the elections that are truly (mostly) fair.
It’s not the food, though good; to die for,
Or the precision to detail, an eye for.
It’s not the planning, down to milimeter
Of space/ time/ product/ money: minister
It’s not the climate control always present
Ever calming, controlling, effervescent.
BUT it’s our identity in multiplicity,
Not one nor two, or even three,
But both none and infinity:
I’m you, and you are, can be, will be – me.
Seeing you and we first,
then the different cultures, tongues, truths.
There our future lies – pursed,
in the eyes, hearts, hands, of our youth.
If there’s one thing I cherish about Singapore, it’s this, that we’ve made it more than just an aspiration. Happy 53rd.
