Responding to the following quote:
Genius is the activity which repairs the decays of things, whether wholly or partly of a material and finite kind. Nature through all her kingdoms, insures herself. Nobody cares for planting the poor fungus: so she shakes down from the gills of one agaric countless spores, any one of which, being preserved, transmits new billions of spores to-morrow or next day.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
Image remix of these creative commons sources: source, source, source
Modern Miracle
Somehow
out of a backdrop
of jacketed wire
and pixelated tapestries built
on promises
of roadway freedom
and zero percent APR
Somehow
out of
a context that connects the hairline cracks
in concrete and glass towers
to the raucous conversations
between cars at near standstill
beneath an urban flood plane of lights that
erased whole star clusters
from our knowing
Somehow
out of generations
of echoing school bells
that linger in our
tense pauses
between destinations,
like board decisions
recorded in muscle fiber
mingling with gunshots
in the nervous evolution of shuffled files,
mass produced accolades,
cold coffee,
interest payments
that whisper each billing cycle
"the experiment must continue"
Somehow
out of this mess
of pipelines and global war zones
fish sick on chemical dispersants
and mobile tech wonders assembled
just for us
in sweat shops
The world
somehow
conspired
to create
you.
How could such love
emerge in this world of
of plastic tectonics,
this hallucinatory amalgam
of SWAT teams and Ferris wheels,
a lurching future
of God knows what,
for a moment
dissolved to insignificance
from some mysterious
and boundless
wellspring
in your eyes.