When we first take that bite of science

following curiousity, following beauty …

When we reach for stars and gaze at star fish

wondering how, why, and where it began …

Our minds have cob webs, places of confusion

places where belief stagnated into ritual,

superstition, clumsily followed religion

never asking, never doubting, being the same.

But the stick jabbed into rotted wood reveals

teaming life, competition, creepy crawlies

and death and a web of life intertwined.

Jigsaw pieces upturned and twisted suddenly fit.

We arise, find ourselves knowing the minerals

the speed of light and sit alone high on skyscraper

wondering if we’ll reach the stars and yet so cold,

love shivering away from us in horror of our minds:

our scythe like wisdom, our precise selection of work.

And so very alone we wonder anew, at the faces

turned away from us, faces turned inside in us

and wonder what will reach us, until the scream

of our roots, our family, our plastic image of hero

gives us purpose, to help, to save, and we swing

over the lines of what is right and wrong

unable to forgive pain, unable to forget beauty.