Did life come here on some cosmic speck?
A single cell inside a shooting star;
I wonder if we travelled far,
before we slid into the bubbling sprawl?
A place hospitable enough
for the stuff from which we're made
to grow and split and split and grow
before - ergo a beak, a stalk, a wink, a squawk,
a carnival of creeping creatures,
each one with its own distinctive features!
So when we pause to comtemplate,
the night sky's pinpricked winking lights,
is the flame that stirs inside
a homesickness for where we came?