All of us so swept away
with the minutia.
Dealing with everything
in our close and immediate spheres.
We are a roiling tumult
of living and acting out.
In our small and personal dreams
scarcely one of us
in 1000, or 10,000, stops
and reflects on where we’ve been
and where we’re going.
But, no matter.
Destines do not require
the destined to be cognizant.
The stage moves
beneath our feet so slowly
that we don’t see
the scenery changing.
We don’t notice the gathering
of the historical dialect.
We imagine we see progress
in the increasingly unstable facades
around us.
And we think we see
promise in our increasing ability
to subvert the natural order.
We mostly act to change things
with little understanding or care
for the consequences, if they but lie
just an inch or two
beyond our immediate concern
or the length of our attention span.
How many times must complexity
and evolution yield up
self-awareness again and again
before it is complete?
Each half formed attempt arises
deeply unaware of its limits
on yet another planet.
Staggering onto the stage
on some new biological Eden
with mirror and ego in hand
and the power to cause havoc
in a new world.
gallagher
Monroe
23Dec2001