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Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #1949233
This poem is with regards to Charles Darwins Origin of the Species.
The origin of the species is a fabulous tale,

A story without reason, a rhyme without fail.

It starts with a beat and ends with a whistle,

Reborn again in the heart of a thistle.



We turn back the clock a billion years prior,

A misshapen world, coated in fire.

Standing on the edge, overlooking an ocean,

We gaze at the marvel, of time in motion.



From the distant horizon comes a thunderous rumble,

The sound of a mountain, taking a tumble.

Coughing and wheezing and chewing on rocks,

Shattering the earth with violent shocks.



Miles above the thin red haze,

Shining with an orange glaze,

An object approaches with tremendous speed,

Carrying with it a life giving seed.



A crack and a whip, a lightning flash,

Falling from the heavens with an almighty splash,

Slowly sinking towards the bed,

Its shiny tail glowing red.



Colliding with the frozen ground,

An echo of an unheard sound,

Dissolving in the dark alone,

This rock on earth not it's own.



From its depths, a hidden gem,

From which all of life will stem,

Bursts forth into the murky soup,

Combining in a complex loop.



Spinning like a rapid fan,

This tiny form of early man,

Wrestles with the molten crust,

Settling in a mound of dust.



Back on land a blast of steam,

Rumbles through a tiny stream,

Coursing through its rippling top,

Emerging with a distinctive pop.



Running down the rivers and valleys,

Carving dents and paths and alleys,

Racing towards a waiting pool,

This colourless liquid a promising tool.



Larger and larger its volume becomes,

The splash of waves like the pounding of drums,

Coating the planet in a deep blue sea,

Readying it self to set life free.



Down below in the darkness lies,

A creature without fingers, toes or eyes.

As atoms collide and electrons clatter,

We witness the fusion of mind and matter.



Slowly but surely, it starts to grow,

The code for life begins to flow,

Forming the base and setting the ladder,

Dodging and weaving like a venomous adder.



Bursting free from its geode cage,

Our tiny friend begins to age,

Lifting higher to reach the light,

Breaking the surface with all its might.



Alas poor thing it cannot respire,

There are no plants in a world of fire.

Time must pass until a release of gas,

Can cause a reproductive mass.



Laying dormant while the years pass by,

Sleeping soundly under a velvet sky,

A greenish object makes its home,

Its tentacles begin to roam.



Across the land and through the mountains,

Feeding from the water fountains,

Breathing life into the air,

A barren wasteland no longer there.



Now the earth is lush and green,

What happens next remains to be seen,

For floating on an ocean of blue,

A masterpiece no artist drew.



A rush of air in a tiny space,

The timeless breath of the human race,

Dividing its body and copying its soul,

Fulfilling its purpose, legacy and role.



A million cells without a face,

Held together with primitive lace,

Wanting to move and dreaming of talking,

Shaking, bouncing, rattling and walking.



Moulding into a worm like state,

No fish around will mistake for bait,

Fusing together and spurting fins,

A spiky tail and sharpened grins.



Dazzling with a shiny light,

A scaly fish with a powerful bite.

Across the bed he scours for food,

To satisfy his new found hunger mood.



He spots a plant, so tasty and fresh,

Gripping with teeth and tearing at flesh,

Chewing his meal and wiggling his tail,

Disturbing the water like a boat with a sail.



Happy he's fed, darting off like an arrow,

Faster than a bullet, a jet, a sparrow,

He swims around in a playful state,

Wishing for a friend, a lover, a mate.



His beady eyes do rest across,

A shadow behind some dark green moss.

Curious as a kitten he appears,

There's nothing in the world he fears.



Approaching softly like a cloud,

The raindrops he scatters are ever so loud,

Sniffing and staring with his curious manners,

His jaw drops faster than a bag of spanners.



Beauty falls across his line of sight,

With sparkling gills and eyes so bright.

She wiggles closer, touching his nose,

His body stuck in an awe struck pose.



Smiling with her pearly whites,

A glow that could brighten the darkest of nights,

She takes his fin and leads him away,

To an undersea barn with a mountain of hay.



There they dance by the light of her eyes,

Casting shadows on the fireflies,

Swirling and twirling and locking their tails,

Fluttering around and hiding in bales.



All of a sudden they begin to glow,

Their bodies expand and start to grow,

First come some legs, replacing their fins,

And a large set of teeth to improve their grins.



Then come the arms with buds for hands,

Enabling them to crawl on the hardened sands,

Attached to a torso, as strong as steel,

With a brand new stomach for a larger meal.



Out pops a head, with a bulging nose,

Tiny eyes and hair that flows.

They look down at their bodies in shock and awe,

Their water covered feet touching the floor.



Clasping their fingers together at last,

They wave their arms and swim up fast,

Breaking free of their ocean home,

Smiling and laughing and ready to roam.



They paddle to an island, shaped like a boot,

As the wind whistles around like the sound of a flute.

Here they decide they will start their life,

Together forever, as man and wife.



Many years pass and society takes hold,

What once were fish, now wise and old.

They close their eyes, contented and calm,

Sleeping forever and safe from harm.



A silence echoes where they lie,

The breath of the ocean and a silent cry.

A sudden sound and a ground breaking whistle,

A plant bursts forth; A thistle.
© Copyright 2013 SAnthonyH (santhonyh at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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