The Invention
We wish, all of us, to exceed our own inventions
to create and then to go beyond that creation,
to enter into it and make it live,
breathing life into the lifeless,
stirring the immovable.
We fail, but we continue.
We invent machine after machine,
each exceeding the next,
becoming more refined,
more capable,
more effective.
And still we build,
paint
dance
sing
write
again and again,
ever aiming to excel.
The direction is obvious:
We wish to build the perfect machine.
We are aiming for ourselves.
The Invention: Poem by John Kremer