From what beastly heart springs our zest?
Of what searching eye became our sight?
What sound in the bushes let us hear?
What dark past haunts but helps us be?

Across what ink black river did we have to swim?
To what ends at length did we search for food?
In what deep entangled forest were we bred?
Of what stars did we shine of their stead?

Oh Man! What a piece of work—the mind;
What noble deeds done and undone in kind.
What Rube Goldberg inventions heaped upon—
In the layers of brains the mind is made upon.

What is this sapiens mammal animal,
But of some slime and of brutish law!
So, let’s ‘neglect’ this state of affairing,
On the grounds that it is unappealing.

So then…

We are spun of the Eternal Golden Braid,
Those windings of Truth, Love, and Beauty made
From the Goodness of Purity Immortal—
The Theory of Everything’s singular portal.

What is Man but the special chosen species
For which all the plants grow and the waters reach,
For which the Earth turns ‘round, and orbits
A sunny furnace, spreading Love’s energy,
Enabling us to thrive above any and all creation.

What is Man but the only bloom for which all
The 13.7 billions years of evolution and love
Have occurred, in a predetermined random yeast,
To form and flower such a vainglorious beast.

It’s ever on forever’s edge that we meet our destiny,
That in our temporary parentheses of Eternity
We would flourish for just this moment, bidden,
As the blossoms of Perfection’s Flower Garden.

A hundred trillion stars and countless shores
Were built to light our universal nights explored;
Forty million other lower species too, the All-Might
Placed about our world, merely for our delight.

Our names are Writ Large on the Heaven’s marquee,
In the supernovae stardust showered from Thee.
From Nothing not You came, but of a naught
Our own universe was made and ever wrought.

A starring role we play in this reality show,
Every atom spinning fine just for us to know,
Our ancestors rising/falling for us to stand upon,
Oh man! They lived and died for our lone promise!

Every shaft of light shines with us in mind;
Thus it beams forth our beginning and our end—
In and of God’s hidden and Heavenly Shrine.
Oh life! We cherish being, that of yours and mine.

We do so much deserve reward beyond this role—
And so it is that one’s immortal spirit-soul,
That angelic vapour that drives a living being,
Shall go forth to glory on, beyond this scene.

We are not merely some mammally organic luck,
But purposely evolved on this planet, near a star,
In that intended long and winding mindless ‘birth’
Of slowly drifting time, dust, and selection by death
That ever sifted the best from the rest: Sapiens!

(Now why is the soul so ‘true’ and so far with it faith goes?
It is only because one so much wishes it to be what knows.)

Our instruments detect what our senses cannot,
Of the whole electromagnetic spectrum,
Of odours and molecules beyond smell and sight,
Of stars far away and even way back in time,
All because scientists exalt in mystery.

Human introspection and sensation, alone,
Without being informed by the science available,
Is captive to the tales of its second story,
Not knowing the neurological first storey.

So it goes on to declare wishes, beliefs and
‘Truth’, deepening the wiring upon each visit.
And they might then layer more dogma thereupon,
Till they’ve a far ranging scheme for life’s wonderland.

Things that haven’t been established can’t be addressed,
For they’re ‘invisible’, such as evil spirits,
So really, a belief in the stated unknown,
‘Faith’ as defined, can’t even be known, much less shown.

Thus to feelings, senses, desires, and sensations,
And claims, we can’t trust, true, even their wishing point.
Mysteries shrink away, at an alarming pace,
Now-a-times, and it’s hard to keep up with the race.

As for humans, true, we, and our matter that’s bright,
Seem to be an afterthought of the Cosmic scheme:
We glow-surf on informational waves of light,
A tiny minority in the grand regime.

Science discovers the truth deep within everywhere;
Religion just makes for begged and bigger questions;
Philosophers just sit around in their soft chairs;
Evolution explains how we mammals got somewheres.

‘You’ were once a lucky shrew, darting all about,
But then attached to a favorable evolutionary line…
Every single one of your forbears on both sides
Being attractive enough to locate a loving mate,
And they fortunately had the good health to celebrate!