- Vol. 06
- Chapter 09
The Art of Who We Are
There is no cable, bolt or digital device
within me. The raw essence of who I am
is not machine. I will never be again.
It’s so easy to forget I am unique.
To pretend whatever I do doesn’t
really matter in the complex scheme
of things happening now or yet to be.
The time on my walk that I stopped
to watch a fly land on a leaf
and frantically rub its face as if
washing up, wouldn’t make a pinch
of difference to the future. But it did.
That pause kept me from crossing
the street just as a driver texting
applause to her friend who just posted
the most amazing selfie in a red dress,
ran the stop sign between me, death
and her lifelong devastation. A robot
would not watch a small thing like a fly
for a moment. The art of being human
comes in handy whether or not we know it.