Why do we cry?
I stand where the waves make love
With the shore. The motion of Ocean
Stretches my bones and kisses the
Curvature of my spine, each vertebra
Arched in agony and love, beneath the
Ancient night and the whispers
Of stars and the towering moon.
Tell me, why are you? A sequence of
atoms in motion, of proteins in
Lines wrapped around proteins in
Lines wrapped around lines. Around
Time. Around lines of times. Around
Timelines, an infinity of movements that
Happen in the middle. Why, so human,
So weak? So barely evolved,
So deeply unresolved, do we cry?
Are we not born of larger schemes
Beyond a beginning and end?
Or are we mere segments and strings—
Woven into the world by unseen hands,
Tightly strung into queues of carbon
Trying to make something of ourselves?
