Nature's way was very strange

the day it made unhappy man.

A single cell changed in his brain,

so this, the dialogue, began:

"What of life--

there is only death

to meet me in the end.

My sister, daughter, friend, and wife

have bent all they could bend.

They worked and slaved

and woke and shaved

And nothing, their dividend.

I must meet them.

I must greet them.

I must onward with final pain.

I, enlightened, no longer frightened,

Wish my wife to see again.

I am nothing--

they have left me!

So I must march my feet

right down the street

to die what death I can."

But all the while

Nature smiles,

granting gift of consciousness.

Has man only to put his dimmer switch

on high, to reach his daily bliss.

"What better proof," Nature says,

"that I have steered you right

Than that of all the species

you alone may wish to seek new light:

"If survival was truly not worth having

then why on my tree of life,

are there so many branches

of which survival makes them ripe?

What better proof is there

that only when we breathe

to ponder death,

are we truly then alive, you see?

What better proof

that the unhappy man

has his happiness safely

locked away inside

Than that when he sees another's pain,

so sadly does he cry?

"I keep my creatures not from anything--

life, death--

I merely just observe.

As I smell the wind I see all

with randomness and verve.

When I look upon the bee

I see the sting it keeps.

When I look upon the vampire bat

I see its brothers' blood it reaps.

When I look upon the ant

I see new queens command the crew.

So when I looked and saw your grief

I'd seen something else too:

A blinding, bitter spark in man

which guards life's worth unto."