The human genome: poems on the book of life

Nogen der kan hjælpe med at analysere dette digt:

Earth is the same language, written in rock -
water, soil, symbiosis with light; we are one,
voluntarily dreaming the same gorgeous world,
where positivity, beauty in all her guises - even
uglier dark expressions of adaptation, evolution,
is light and tool, driving life principle, relentless
pursuit of being, that will never let us down, fail;
where the loss of one flower impresses our mind,
diminishes us, even an un-named bloom dying
on an un-named peak in a far-off foreign land,
in governing shade of our own pitiful garden
aping Earth; the burning of one tree is painful,
hurting the brotherhood of all that lives; came
streaming, changing, from that galactic dust -
verdant cloud, seeded gas - though seeds then
were not translated into living genes, to script,
but were dreams in the darkness as flowers
are now - viva-in-potential, never knowing
the time of their birth when soil springs
to attention at this chronological map -
sparking the place, the mark, right now; here.
What circumstance and time to bring us thus -
soil of stars, flesh of soil;
a whispering in the water
made manifest, as sung music
of the Word; everything’s kin.