Ontogeny does recapitulate
phylogeny. The cross biologist
who chalked it up may quibble and insist
that it won't hunt or fly… but it’s too late!
The painter and the poet share his dream
and recognize they’ve known it all along —
the ghost pain of a gill is like a song.
The whistle in a shell, a distant scream.
It’s elegant. A sacred narrative
of mirrors on a steaming forest trail,
the picture clear and text declarative.
That hieroglyphic snake is but a tail
each one of us unravels from the well
where formed the first illuminated cell.