You’re a long shot

Your genetic code is a hand-me-down
from your 2 parents, theirs from
your 4 grandparents, and theirs from
your 8 great-grandparents.
Just 20 generations ago, you had
a million ancestors behind you —
a river basin sprawling
back to the start of life.

Your body is made up of a billion atoms
for every grain of sand on earth.
They were born inside ancient stars,
and briefly pass through you before
moving on downstream. Each year,
half your atoms wash away
and are replaced.
So that every 10 years
you are refreshed
as a whole new person.

Your code and body
are two streams colliding
briefly converging to
churn a musky mix of riverbottom mud.
The stink of biology
doing the messy work of you —
all the you there is.

I hope we’re not conscious for too long
after we’re dead
or we’ll be mortified with regret
over everything we could have done
in that one brief moment
when the universe lined up for us
and we were alive.

*

Greg Stewart is a Canadian poet based in British Columbia. His work has appeared in ONE ART. He writes and performs regularly, and has been featured three times at Poetry Floodlight in New Westminster, where he remains active in the local poetry community.