In Grahamstown's Public Library
  I read that we are towers of cells,
billions and billions of sedulous cells,
  each one more complex than a town.
I turned the page, once more amazed
  at life's deep daring and finesse.
The library clock ticked on, unfazed.

Read A Breath of Awe

Knowing one cell unknows the next
  try as we might to mind the whole
and figuring out its proton-pumps
  transmutes a membrane into thought.

So when it's said that aeons ago
  a pinhead orbed a billion stars,
antimatter that's here, but not,
  and energy massed out as time,

Read The Mutability of Science

Fairest of forebears,
denizen of a puddle
of blood-warm brine,
how goes the grub?

A snout lifts, bulges
the pool's meniscus
and then sinks back.
Billennia slip past.

Read Worm