And what shall we say 100,000 years hence?
Will we remember Moore, Turing, and Brin
Or will we be orphaned in time,
Blinded by absolution, searching for the start?
Will we be aware of that fading line
Between what we make and what we are?
After survival has coaxed us into the solid state,
Our bodies capable of far flung starry visits,
Will we paint the same fleshy pictures?
To you, my descendents, species evolved,
I send this message from my primordial cave wall:
I found beauty here.
-T. Weeks
(A response to “BOOK VIII: Crossing Brooklyn Ferry”)
Life Immense 