Coyotes are gathering acorns
to plant in the forest.  One day
there will be enough.  Even now,
the ancient acorn-eating peoples
curled in their river-gravel mounds
are arising and tuning their drums.

Red squirrels are growing opposable
thumbs and tails like monkeys.
Soon they will be able
to open any door;
they will wield paintbrushes and spoons.
Soon they will be able to sing.

Bears awaken early, craving beef and beer.
Elephants are learning to dig tunnels.
Dark Matter is gathering,
incomprehensible, into a god of infinite
dimension.  All the stars are opening
their pointed mouths.

Is this so strange?
Once there was a spirit
in every tree.  Once
all the animals could speak.
And you, stubby primate,
believing illusions of grace,

is there anything you really understand?
Your brain extends through the soles
of your feet and beyond
the thickness of your skull.
It mingles with the shards
scattering into cosmic curves.

It’s time to get serious:
Take for example, this universe–
moving faster, heaven knows why.
Evolution goes on, outside your blindfold.
And take consciousness, that old homunculus,
that ancient soul that no one yet has found.

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