Sing Fuse

There has to be a verse in there,
In one of those seen or unseen
Machines, that could answer to this

Moment, this passage when all things
Hang between the remarkable
Endurance of organisms

Doing the old loops, the two, three
Billion years’ worth of traditions,
Marvelous however vicious,

Life on Earth, and the invasion
Of mechanisms newer than
Yesterday. It’s their turn, it is,

For them to actually create
Or generate or do something
That is not only echoing

But a patterning of novel
Existence—not only being
Not living, not only living—

Something as new to Earth’s habits
As the first single-cellular
Lives were, and something more than life.