Whispers of the Ancient Code

In the quiet before the numbers. Before a cell had learned its name.

Only patterns moved in darkness. Only chances played their game. From collisions in

the starlights. From the fire, from the cold. Something small began repeating.

A story desperate to be told. We are children of a long desire.

Woven from an ancient code . Built to carry one more copy

. Down an ever-branching road . But in the

mirror, in the mind's faint gleam. We can learn to bend the

selfish scheme. Every creature is a vessel. Little engines made of bone.