The Genetic Universe Cannot Be Recreated in Yields

Everything I do, say, think and experience has come from my genetics. For in the womb I was a fertilised egg and today I am sitting here typing on a computer, a compilation of cells all coded as a human being.

I am feeling inspired, how did DNA create that? I am feeling for the contour of truth, how does DNA programme me to want to do that? I feel love, curiosity, imagination as I turn visual images into metaphors. Again how did DNA do that, how did it switch me on?

This poem is long and explores genetic engineering and the future beyond the debate. My only interest would be a world that survives our folly. Yet even that is DNA. There is one more variable that is not DNA, that is free will as consciousness. That is where the future is decided in my view, or perhaps impulsed by our true nature.

THE GENETIC UNIVERSE CANNOT BE RECREATED IN YIELDS

The birds are chirping,
A cacophony of squeaks, tweets and non stop chatter,
I do not know their language,
Or the messages celebrating dusk,
As all seek a place to sleep,
As each has a right to life,
Ending the day as it started,
Across millennia.

I watch the clouds drift,
Thin multi-layers stretching out across the sky,
As the crimson sunset changes from fluffy white to grey to pink,
The blue sky fades as space unfolds new stars,
As the planet turns away from the sun,
I recognise I have no control over this process,
It happens automatically,
Consciously,
Effortlessly,
I am merely benefiting from incalculable codes, signals, temperatures and rhythms,
Of which I know not from whence it comes.

My body is the ecosystem,
My heart beats the rhythm without my say so,
My blood circulates rivers depositing nutrients, oxygen and life,
For if I place a tourniquet on any part,
It becomes numb,
And then blue,
It may fall off,
For the system has a wisdom which is interdependent,
A self regulating system,
Of checks and balances,
And if I remain in balance,
My health blooms,
For my life is entombed by nature,
And it cannot exist,
When nature is estranged.

I see self destruction on massive scales,
Trillion dollars on wars of aggression,
To find the oil that lubricates has peaked,
Materialism on a scale of global proportions,
Human induced market distortions,
Where need does not equal want,
For many are filling gaps by trends
rather than following natural impulses,
Where market signals send pulses of demand and supply,
And this is driven by the greed of market expansion,
For many are profiting from the bounty,
As nature lurches from side to side in rough weather,
Icepacks topple in landslides collapsing into the sea,
As feedback loops confuse seasons as arrhythmia calls nature early,
An early warning that change is out of steppe,
As humans are not responding to changes on the radar,
They are out of tune with their true nature,
And unable to see what awaits up ahead.

It is our true nature which takes only what we need,
To plant good seeds,
To rotate crops for the earth is exhausted,
To respect the sacred balance between man and all life forms,
For you are a dependent child living at home on mother earth,
And not an endless supermarket food chain,
Missing the links of this game.

Remember:
There are natural limits to growth,
A silent spring is breaking through,
An inconvenient truth has hit the roof of CO2,
Duty of care is not a private enterprise,
As russian roulette plays with life over death,
To pull triggers that shoot down the right of life
to determine its own nature,
As it responds to the whole not the moving part,
In sequences, order, and building upon bonds,
For nature is a force more powerful,
And we cannot put the gene-ie back in the bottle,
Once it is let loose,
Millions of years of natural selection favours
a recesssive human race,
For all life is organically grown,
And when ingested the seed is sown,
For our ultimate trial is to ask:
Best interest over self interest?
The next generation or a basket case?

The genetic blueprint,
Determines the footprint is encoded by limits,
A DNA sequence of peptide bonds,
Evolved over millions of years,
A trillion songs of chemical bonds,
For nature responds to changes not politics,
It is not an unresponsive imprint,
It is coded for adaptation,
To know its environment in every moment,
To not resist but to persist in flows,
For she is functionality, adaptability and sustainable,
And mutants are not freaks of nature,
Nature seeks contingencies in case of freak conditions,
Rebalancing populations,
Building interdependencies between organisms, plants and climate,
For even the slightest change is registered in seed banks,
As life is symbiotic rather than mutually exclusive,
Receiving signals from life itself to go or stop,
To change or die off.

The human species,
Is disconnected from natural impulses,
Responding to patterns of contrived order not chaos,
As if a separate entity outside of the system,
Applying Descartes reductionist model,
Scientists breaking down life into moving parts,
A Newtonian mechanics,
Yet humankind is the real spanner in the works,
For organic self regulating systems are automated not mechanical,
They are living systems where the sum of the parts is the whole,
Chaos then replicates,
And what happens to the parts affects the whole,
For they are one and the same.

Genetic universes,
Orbit the atom,
Protons, neutrons and electrons,
Gravity finds its kenetic balance,
From quasars to galaxies,
Ancient rhythms prior to earth time,
The one song where every particle belongs,
For Gaia is integrated into …

The one life,
The one breath,
The one heart,

As mythology and custom,
Was the drum keeping pace with human connection,
The rhythm of dance was the rhythm of nature,
Respect of nature was respect of human plights,
For the gods must be crazy to invent free will,
As the arrhythmia introduced into this perfected system,
A human experiment that got out of control,
Humans forgot their boundaries in the life pattern,
And the dominos of war, finance and biological fragility,
Fell apart as the stock markets crashed every wall on the street,
Such calamity the world has never seen,
Traversing to the edge of life support,
Descending into a depression as an endless pit,
Mining the last ounce of gold into base metal,
Drilling down into the sub stratum of paper tiger trails,
Distracting with proof the logic of an impossible staircase,
For there is a pink elephant in the room,
That is not genetically modified,
Only a few can see it,
When the truth sets them free.

Many regard denial as a river in Egypt,
The web of life as the gravy train,
Rather than the holy grail,
A precious treasure created by the uni-verse,
That could never be re-created or owned,
And this is the crown of thorns for mankind alone,
That sacrifices life itself ,
For the sake of profit and diminishing yields,
We must yield to life if we wish to create a future,
As the final seal or the cross roads,
of human adaptation,
to our true nature.