Totems of What If ?

Can we ever escape
that which we create
but often choose to ignore?

Like the mismatched rocks of a cairn,
random choice is not an option,
as complimenting shapes and sizes
make up one's balance,
one's direction,
one's harmony.

Yet some…

Aspiring high-rise urban dwellers,
live a rock steel and glass totem life
stacking mismatched building blocks
like mutated animal lineage not of the fittest,
unknowingly making unbalanced directions,
even while gasping air to defy their self-made reality.

Might they be destined to realize a primeval demise
like a surreal incarnation atop modern scaffold
where ghostly burial rites of Great Plains nomadic tribes
wait to happen?

Can primitive wisdom ever penetrate assumed importance
before the inverted vortex of tumbling balance
consumes itself atop the rising funnel of ignorance,
distilling the wrongs of misbegotten power
to but sand kernels of infinity's hourglass?

Such might be the destiny of man's innate totems,
the unique building blocks that make us the species we are,
while stealthily we try desperately to become a species we are not.