Evolution: Part I
Primordial seas of pristine blue
drew schools of fish through centuries of days,
forging the makings of mental tools
from hunger and the dread of being swallowed.
Hot roiling pools in marshy lagoons
seethed under steaming skies
and decades of showers.
Till the crisp snap, at last, of fecund mornings
tempted our ancestors out of their bogs,
and the sun lit the seeds and maps of tomorrow
in the membranes and grasp of burgeoning beings.
Finding Our Place
Below the neck, we emulate our earth
spinning dutifully in space—
its only traces of the familiar
a repetitive orbit and the other bodies
it rolls over to meet each day—
as if routines give randomness meaning.
Meanwhile, somewhere in our heads,
we carry more than chemicals, sparks, and gas.
Ours is a clever concoction with plans.
And at our best, we reflect well upon
the blueprints we’ve been given,
even as we leave behind miscues
and dead-end trails for the pilgrims
who follow from these or other lands.
And for lack of a better staff to lean on,
we infer a spirit within—
one that joins us on this journey
and tries to make it whole—
even as we scratch around
in the furrowed gardens of our minds
hoping to someday uncover
a Rosetta stone that will explain it all.