An Aesthetic

Every round your ancestors
Survived long and well enough
To become your ancestors

Left a little residue,
And among the possible
Distillations of remains

Is a lot of what makes you—
Not so much built or designed,
But some world interacting

With ancestral residue,
The result of which this day
May mean you at a window,

You in a meadow, just you
Anywhere that delights you,
That looks, smells, feels right to you,

Resonates with residues
Your purged ancestors left you,
Thinking, this is beautiful,

So insanely beautiful,
Almost maddeningly so
At this moment, lucky you.