Could it be that what we be is simply an emergent property of an autopoietic dissipative system?
Did we spontaneously form in a gradient of energy, the source of which no one in our 'hood is spared - a fiery mass of E equals Em Cee Squared?
Located far from any other place, somewhere in the middle of space, Sol's energy flows away. Away.
Seeking thermal equilibrium as it diffuses into the vacuum, traveling faster than you can say zoom.
Meanwhile, nestled in the goldie-locks zone is a certain planet we call home, a mere one hundred and fifty million kilometers from the sun.
It doesn't take physics to realize just how lucky we must be - and I mean holy crap lucky. An appropriate energy gradient indeed!
For were it not for a certain sized Sol, and a certain sized rock with a certain roll, a magnetic field, and ozone layer, and water both fresh and salty, plus a certain mix of gas to breathe - - then everything we know would cease to be.
And that is why there is no excuse for how we allow the continued abuse of a living planet some call Gaia.
I wish that everyone understood that the situation could be dire as we go about our lives carelessly playing with fire.
This poem was born on December 07, 2011 by Andrew G. Wendell (and inspired by the Gaia 101 class proffered by Alder Stone Fuller).