The thread of kinship lovingly binds us
in graceful spirals deep within.
A cold eye would see only
a thin molecule of four bases...
A cold eye guided by a cold heart
would ignore the mystery of that line
that began with the little ones
who prepared the way
when the Earth was a child.
The cosmic language of the quickening,
the four-letter alphabet
with an infinite vocabulary.
Simple elements drawn together
by the dance of the electrons.
Swirling into awareness,
and binding us.
In the thread of kinship.