We Are Mankind

We are the sentient of sentient digging through strata, digging for missing data that links us and our precedent, hoping that fossilized taxa will shed light on the darkness that stirs inside machines that fear themselves future carcasses.

From the storm we’ve descended and, through ecologically pressured selection, have become endowed with the haunting power of reflection.

Looking for reason, we transmit signals screaming into space as beacons seeking a fellow legion.

There are no burning bushes, just fossil fuels burning on a lonely earth turning crawling with earthlings crawling for clues.

Seeking the feeling of being complete…

There’s something missing aside from the links in genealogy.

The Gods of yesterday have led us astray, as we awake in a state of wonder wondering our way.

Fumbling our way, plundering and destroying what we may, we seek certitude in the bustle of dismay.

We are biomass awakened by a mysterious wand.

Now we don the crown in an infinitesimal pond somewhere in a silent stillness sprinkled with light.

We are primordial clay sprinkled with the mingle of life.

Like a child crying for its mother in the black of night, man bows down pleading with fleeting hope of eternal life.

With our mandible thumb we clutch a dream that we are not cosmic orphans in a dead sea.

And we seem to be aware as our fellow creatures are not.

And in this awareness we sit, irresolute, baffled by its wake.

As we scrape the tissue of an unfeeling cosmos our mammalian skeletons shake.

We’ve arrived but we don’t remember leaving, like a child who can not recall its first experience of seeing.

In his phylum man is an island, though in the quiet of his solitariness he finds no asylum.

As we gaze in the face of stars that rattle the foundations of what we are, we feel like the protagonist in a cosmic Lord of the Flies.

But there is no savior to liberate us.

In droves we live and die.