Across the gray tile floor,

the shine of silver mechanically modern,

the non-purposeful look up

to the adjoining airport line

that suddenly sinks into the awareness

that you look into the depths

of another’s amber-brown eyes

to see a fellow soul shining

back at you,

awareness, total awareness,

that here is another human being,

your own kind metamorphosed

out of an absence of thought,

and he is uniquely,

utterly him,

even though,

you have never

seen him before,

and you may never

see him again,

an absolutely unique creation

out of what?

Biometrics truth,

each fingerprint,

different than any other,

each voiceprint,

different than any other,

each eye iris,

different than any other,

each eye retina,

different than any other,

everything absolutely unique,

identical twins possibly the same,

genotype or phenotype differences,

millions upon billions,

each one different,

even the trees,

even the leaves,

all absolutely unique,

no pecan tree exactly the same as another,

no human exactly the same as another,

even no bacterium exactly the same as another,

biometric truth,

convenient for airport identification,

or is it more,

is it proof

of the God

who said

each hair of your head is counted?

Truth if it be truth,

proof if it be proof,

mathematical law of probability

running against sameness,

proof of unique God

and unique you,

the answer maybe yes to all,

the accidental creation

excusing you,

the God creation

charging you

with responsibility,

to be,

to your own self to be true ,

not selfish,

not clinging to things,

but truly knowing your inner being,

responsibility you can’t escape

to be you before a creator?

Yes, there is the difficulty,

to accept this truth of biometrics,

perhaps to account for what was done

with this gift

of single fulfillment,

to answer when asked

what you did with this life,

or to escape to deceitful sameness,

the black oblivion

of easy out,

the choice to choose to be

or to carefully search the tile cracks,

not to look around

in airport lines.

Copyright 2009, Jerry W. Engler