A scary pseudo mathematical construct wanders about,
Of adventurous non-localized estimates superficially and loud.
What will happen to the evolution and its helical flow,
When all living entities line up in a single dimensional row?
Fortunately, some unfashionable creatures keep thinking deep,
About what is really odd or unworthy and what we should keep.
We are worried for nature to act so unpredictably wild,
Like aliens we observe and are completely beguiled,
Not accepting that we are part of an ongoing game,
Equilibrium implies change, nothing stays ever the same.
But we became a species of estranged, analytic spectators,
Observing life and death in which we act as inventory curators.
We love to administer some systems but others we doom,
And we are surprised when such systems start to loom,
Like untamable, mounting horses before they finally collapse.
And we, without recognizing the multi-dimensional gaps,
Are driven to very fast conclusions like fanatics of faith,
And think all effects must be moved by an invisible wraith.
No longer we are mystics but we build statistics like a walking aid,
Fostering the destruction of life only because some get well paid.
All for a questionable politics of unarticulated ideas that will probably die.
Oh, for how long have we stopped asking for the how and the why?
We advocate and influence decisions in favor of pure greed,
And forget that all life once sprang from one single seed.
Why can’t we just humbly accept the dissonance in vibration?
Instead of fluid elastics we demand for a fixed normalization.
We could cherish the wonder that came with the gift of existence,
But for some this happiness of the moment creates a fearful resistance.
Scared that the self-made construct of functional permanence might be lost,
They crave so much for distributed predictability on any and all cost.
While our dear sacred souls are as fragile as our natural biosphere,
So unshielded in an open ocean and exposed to the cosmic flare.
We do not fully reflect the floating light show in which we all act,
And pursuit with the writing of a paradox and confusing contract,
Of wrong security, frozen demagogy and other delusional creations,
Without the real wish to understand all the deepest foundations,
That once called us into being from an abyssal, chaotic soup,
And which in primeval times scaffolded our very own haplogroup.
© Written by: Anja Jaenicke, May 2019
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