DNA links us,
We are blocks
Blocks of a singularity called humanity,
Inside another grouping, inside another,
In another…
Inside of what is as a whole

life.

We relish and depend on our web
That is family,
But to a point;
Somewhere along the string of DNA,
As pieces of our ancestors get left off, we cut each other off,
We stop seeing the singularity of existence.

It does not matter if I still maintain our shared ancestor’s chromosomes,
But that we all spring from the same tree.
Perhaps we sense the absence when we meet someone who does not look familiar,
But is that not how we make friends;
Find loves;
From those that contain the familiar human qualities,
But yet seem
Different?

We are of the same tree,
Cousins all,
With DNA shared,
Even when distantly,
We are samples of the beauty
And complexity of the web
Of life,
And what we as humans call
Family.