Even as we speak,
two mice who by chance
have stronger teeth than their siblings
are mating; and one day
their noble line will survive beyond all others
by eating through the thickest plastic
that you thought was safe from them:
such is the glory of evolution
which the righteous kneel before
as the wisdom of God,
Who built into His glorious Creation,
Chance; for it to survive, develop, flourish;
and also, threats appropriate
to provide a challenge.
To the godly mind, all things are God.
So check your larder;
or share that divine joke
with a wink at your nightly mouse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem