What Makes a Mind?
by cricketjeff on October 1, 2017. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
I do not know what self-awareness means
I’ve raised four kids and watched them fly away
I”ve loved them all through sleep and dreadful scenes
And love them still the whole of every day
At first I loved each eating shitting thing
That stole my sleep and rewrote every thought
And then I loved four devils on the wing
And angels who could break my heart for sport
They were my life before they tasted air
They’ll be my life until the day I die
And every part of me is “them-aware”
How ever many tears have drifted by.
A minute worm has neurons of its own
But it can’t think, nor write well metered verse
A dog can dream, about a cat or bone
But doesn’t think of politics and curse.
A single neuron doesn’t make me me
I wasn’t me when I was mere days old
I grew in size and slowly thoughts broke free
The same is true of those within my fold.
No adult knows what’s in a baby’s mind
And baby’s minds don’t fashion memories
As months roll by there is more child to find
Until at last they set out on their seas.
Perhaps we’ll build a brain as good as ours
Or better yet a brain beyond compare
And it may dream of babies wrapped in flowers
And understand what made it self-aware.
Author notes
I don’t think this meets your prompt so feel free to DQ
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Jeff
English