Where am I?
I am a speck, perched ‘pon this ball of rock
spinning through space; vast, dark, empty.
Galaxies drift apart, on ticks the clock;
I am here, here never again will I be.
When am I?
I am a gust of wind that dies away
soon forgotten, leaving no trace. Because
the vast expanse of time will stay
long after I’ll be; long before I ever was.
What am I?
I am a trillion cells. Some have my genes,
others don’t. Matter flows, continuous
I am built of wheat, rice and beans –
Yet I perceive my existence, contiguous.
Why am I?
A butterfly’s flap would have meant
A different sperm: I never was to be.
Odds: a billion dollars to a single cent
Yet I am here, I am now, I am me.
Who am I?
Am I automaton, or truly free?
Nature or nurture – what is greater?
The great I Am hand-crafted me
I am both creature and creator