We are more
Than the sum of our parts
Put us together like legos
But you cannot make us walk, talk
If science keeps progressing
We will learn how to make a body walk and talk
We will learn how to make someone live, think, feel
And you know what?
It’s not what you cannot do
That makes life a wonder.
It’s what you are
And no amount of knowing detracts from that.
To be tiny
Climb a blackberry bush
Step between the large dull thorns
Wave to a passing ant
Ascend the most vibrant cluster of flowers
Swallowed by a profusion of white
Wrap yourself in a petal of living silk.
To be small
Climb a tree
Admire the neighborhood
Wave to a passing plane
Feel the branches bend beneath your weight
Wrap your hands around the sun-warmed wood.
To be insignificant
Climb the surface of a little blue planet
Breathe the miracle of air
Wave to a passing meteor
Wrapped in the inexorable present
Know that your meager vision
Only goes as far
As the neighborhood stars.
replete with vitality
laced with veins and arteries
padded with springy muscle
elegant bones the support trusses
you own this hand
it will fold whichever way you dream
each digit an extension of your unconscious
this hand can beckon, halt, support, negate
lose balance and it steadies you
cry and it wipes your tears away
All you artists,
let your hands give something form
and watch them express
what you never knew was in you.
All you workers,
allow the tasks to fall into place
marvel at what
your hands have wrought.
All you parents
brush hair, wash faces
caress the infant
whose first unconscious expression of love
is the grasping of your fingers
in his warm little hand.
We are alive
how wondrous we are
with such capacities.
we wreck, we pet.
We let our hands lead us
these finite tools
a hand’s breadth
a finger’s length
flushed with redness, with vigor
Are we really
made of such things?
Are we really made by them?