Poem: "Growing Panes"

[ysabetwordsmith]

This poem is brought to you by janetmiles. Many science fiction writers have explored the motif of sentient crystals; here's my take on an old and honored concept.

Growing Panes
– a terzanelle

We’re growing, but we’re growing awful slow.
This truth above all else is crystal clear.
We hardly even know what we don’t know.

We cannot let ourselves be formed in fear.
That fire burns more than it births. Believe:
This truth above all else is crystal clear.

We must grow out, not in, and learn to leave
The world that formed us. Give no heed to hate.
That fire burns more than it births. Believe

In life on other worlds. It’s not too late.
How can we plan to kill what we’ve not met?
The world that formed us gives no heed to hate.

Believe we have not doomed ourselves. Not yet.
We must take time to think before we act.
How can we plan to kill what we’ve not met?

This is unacceptable. That’s a fact.
We’re growing, but we’re growing awful. Slow!
We must take time to think before we act.
We hardly even know what we don’t know.