The glassy tentacles of ideas
Snake down through the marrow of bones,
Like roots from a monkeys brain.
Rabid froth dried, on a rabbits whiskers,
Dreaming as tiger, instead of prey;
Snoring through the wild radish stalks.
And horses rear on legs borrowed from deer
To munch green apples, from rutting-scarred trees-
Everything what it is, and nature never differs
Though men may wish they had been born stones instead,
Or as kings in higher places;
But the higher grace found in this world
Looks out of human faces.
Patti Masterman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/human-faces/
