The Near-Senile Magnetic Cloud Speaks Out of Turn During a Mating Ritual [Today's News Poem, March 19, 2010]
“... Bangladesh, to the vast, such as the US; from the familiar - England, New Zealand... What unites such a disparate group is concern about climate change. They have all signed on to participate in Earth Hour next Saturday.”
--JENNIE CURTIN, Sydney Morning Herald, March 20, 2010
http://www.smh.com.au/environment/earth-hour/nations-large-and-small-join-climate-change-campaign-20100319-qmay.html
What can't forget cannot recall
It seems. The rest of you converge
Your nebulae in mating brawls,
While memories in me emerge
Of stately solar births. With gas
It starts... but then the sparking burst!
You judge importance by its mass.
Like you, I watched the giants first;
But atoms lust as well and link
Together. Once I saw some chains—
Of acid really—learn to think.
Astonishing! I watched the brains
Of little nothings come aware.
And every time I noted one
It decomposed. I learned to care
For trifles; loved their micro-sun.
Though starved of energy, their life
Replenished me. Their sense of four
Dimensions, crude. Their frantic strife
Would end before I'd even store
My memories. They loved our kind
You know, and envied us as well.
They prayed to us, to me to find
A way to save them all—to quell
Their rightful fears of death. I said
I care for them: they called me God.
With speech, I seemed to end their dread.
They scattered, left their rocky clod.
Before explosions killed that race,
Before they wandered outer space,
They hoped to find enlightened grace.
It's there, I said, in every place.
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