Four thousand million years or so ago
On, perhaps, a sunny day, maybe in June,
Or beneath the silver disk of Moon,
An odd molecule or two caught an idea
To make the slightest touch of life appear.
Molecules are thoughtless bits that tag
Each other in surprise or someways otherwise.
Events that day, anyway, no one can say.
Molecules can link and split, twirl and branch,
Twist in ways that can’t be missed, or just drift away.
But that most significant connection initiated events
Out of the iron rule of circumstance, without intents,
To demand that this Wednesday morning, eggs and toast,
A cup of coffee, microwaved, as preferred by most
Or, at least, by me, would provide sustenance
To initiate the imaginings of where and how I might be.
These things, of course, are never independent,
Unlinked in time to long chains of previouses,
Unlike radioactive decay which may, without intent,
In furious, spurious, energetic eruption fusses
Of speeding, subatomic flights of reconstruction
Twist succeeding fates in ways that no one susses.
Thus infringes pasts and pasts of pasts into currency,
A stone imprint of the foot of Tyrannosaurus Rex
Reflects a step of history towards some vague destination,
The spring of delight in Balanchine assault on gravity,
Wilder still, that human Lunar print to step onto a dusty satellite.
So then and now progress to when in steps beyond concepts
Into futurity where sweet and horrifying possibilities lie and lurk.
We walk across the ages blind, unknowing of what we find.
The architect of time erects, connects and razes with bare hints
Of what stays, what fades or what bridges into possibilities.
We each are hints to blow like mist to leave, perhaps, a scent
Of what may be meant.