What is this thing?
this feeble object that fills us all?
what is it that is so strong,
yet able to be broken so easily?
what is this tree, with roots of solid rock,
yet limbs of glass and paper?
how is it that this flower, so beautiful,
can be yet so hideous?
how does a creature, so unseen,
appear on the faces of the creatures around it?
fear, love, affection, hate.
How can this single being become multiple, one in many?
how does one color split into a rainbow?
what is this thing?
it is life.
This poem was written/submitted by michael plant.