Bag of Rocks

Bag of Rocks

by dan ankers

I stand by the mirror and 

look

At what my mother’s womb did 

cook

I have been regenerated many times over since 

then

Still, the pattern was established years

ago

Many times I take for granted 

that

I am just a slab of bone and 

fat

And assorted other things to make this

stew

Though, all in all, I’m just a pile of 

goo

But with this goo I can perceive

miracles

In orders far beyond the work of 

partices

Or the elements that make up my common, human

mind

At once, they are greater than the sum of their 

parts

And that’s what sets my human life so

high

The range in which these base elements 

perfom

Is dazzling and far beyond the

norm

If normal can be measured by human

achievements

And if in judging that becomes our 

standard

Then miracles abound with wild 

abandon