The Hands That Hold the World
This is the freebie poem from today's Poetry Fishbowl. It was prompted by janetmiles, newroticgirl, and zianuray.
The Hands That Hold the World
The hands that hold the world together are things we never see.
Our ancestors climbed the ladder of DNA without ever noticing
the sturdy rungs of adenine and guanine, cytosine and thymine.
We do not hear the humming of hydrogen atoms as they bind
the amino acids together, nor the quacking of quarks in the sky.
The mitochondria are pets that our cells decided to keep, long ago,
and aeons later a caveman raised a wolf cub and called it new.
We do not stand on the shoulders of giants, but on the tiny hands
of the countless connections that create matter out of energy
and life itself out of the strange bright shadow of potential.
The Hands That Hold the World
The hands that hold the world together are things we never see.
Our ancestors climbed the ladder of DNA without ever noticing
the sturdy rungs of adenine and guanine, cytosine and thymine.
We do not hear the humming of hydrogen atoms as they bind
the amino acids together, nor the quacking of quarks in the sky.
The mitochondria are pets that our cells decided to keep, long ago,
and aeons later a caveman raised a wolf cub and called it new.
We do not stand on the shoulders of giants, but on the tiny hands
of the countless connections that create matter out of energy
and life itself out of the strange bright shadow of potential.