![[poetry-page-2.png.webp]] # The Hand and the Mind A chemical soup churns an ancient recipe, a salad of acids nucleic, a pattern so oft flawed, a twist & a turn, livin’ up to the font of a God? A nurture awaits the soup, hands not always gentle, words not often soothing, parsing the salad with a shifting key, an encryption undefined, unbroken. A million years of evolution, moments, minutes and years punctuated by revolution, ossify thoughts, behaviours and attitudes, that season the salad, nay even shape its constitution. What is one life? What of its experience lived? Where does it come from, this feeling of uniqueness? This yearning for a kinship amidst a fist of fingers alike? As if the punch was conceived in the hand… but willed in a far-away mind?