“The idea that everything from spoons to stones are conscious is gaining academic credibility.” — Olivia Goldhill, QuartzMedia 1
“You’re gonna put me out of a job here.” —Tom Petty to the crowd singing Breakdown at the Fillmore.
I sympathize with your need
to grasp power, the belief
that you are separate and alone.
The scientists taught you well,
taking apart bodies like matryoshka dolls
nesting whole within each other,
each piece smaller,
down to the tiniest particle
to say, now we have you! Now
we name you. Now we know you.
Oblivious to the obvious.
Chasing after power and separating
are distractions. They will keep you busy,
good consumers of ever expanding
piles of worthless crap.
We poets know this life is a dance,
that you are dreamed into being
by trees, the brilliant sunrise,
vast oceans and starstruck skies.
To find power, you must put together,
open your heart to the connection:
that quantum entanglement
stretching beyond space and time,
love that infuses our microbiota,
streams from the distant stars
wraps you in wholeness
with all of your cousins:
the rocks, the flowers,
tears, and of course
wolves and bears and people
of every color and creed.
When scientists become poets,
where do we go
like shooting stars across the horizon
together at last?