"As time dense weave renders baskets of understanding." Thus does the poem itself weave its own basket of understanding into the creative process and how it lives and dies. Thank God for choice, "offering creation's endless harvest."

In every era there are great works of writing, great works of art, great works of sculpture and music. And in every era the best rises to the top while the classics remain.

So too, is nature if left alone in a fertile environment like New Guinea, the constant search for new niches and survival tends to create new species at a much more rapid rate than even Darwin thought. I would love to be around 200 years now to see what kinds of species would survive the current harsh conditions and what new species would evolve as a result and adaptation.

Most of all, humans. We are nothing today without our eyeglasses, wristwatches, hearing aids and implants like pacemakers not only just keeping us alive, but thrive. Two hundred years now we may all be cyborgs having been implanted at birth with all kinds of enhancements of mind and body like disease conquering bots in our bloodstream, replacing inefficient white blood cells.

Survival does create infinite possibilities for harvest.

Ron

Splendid! Word ‘splendid’ hardly used anymore, but it fits this woven poem, its pattern life shown in the form itself. How skillfully you chose the pliant words to create this piece. . . . “An intellect’s arrangement,’ certainly. Easily my VERY favorite segment is “Nimble fingers……” because that one had the action that happens in our ‘working’ to sort {whichever medium} resources respectfully, and that last word ‘concede’ to me is not equivalent to ‘surrender,’ but more like ‘agree.’ And in that stanza ‘implore’ to me is not equivalent to ‘force.’ It all contains the feeling of respect and is brightly illustrative of that word ‘symbiotic.’ I love it. ~~ djl. P.S. — I couldn’t find the 1/26/24 opinion article by Brooks on the NYT website. But I’ll give it another go. Thank you.