Replication

Today I gave myself the word REPLICATION.  Why?  I don't know.  The word just spoke to me this week.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I've been delving into the philosophy of identity this week, in part in preparation for my first post as the Weekend Philosopher.  I won't say more about that here, because I don't want to spoil anything for you!

The word led me to write this poem.  I could talk forever about why I wrote this, but Ill let the poetry speak for itself.

Replication

All the forms were signed,

informed consent obtained.

Not till the deed was done did I

wish that we’d refrained.

Unsettled by the sight,

unnerved by the implication,

of standing there before

such a perfect duplication.

I looked into my own eyes,

so much more than a mirror.

Never had I planned

to see things so clear.

She was me, yet not.

A different path before her lay.

Yet DNA and memories copied.

I yearned to cast her away.

I turned my gaze to steel,

though my heart still did leap.

Was I threatened by this duplicate?

Was my nature mine to keep?

Forever bound will I be

to this moment in time.

This reflection of myself resonates

with my features like a rhyme.

My reaction was revealing,

far more than I can defend.

So rooted in me was my identity,

my new lack of uniqueness did offend.

Curiosity led me here.

I didn’t foresee the complication

of standing toe to toe with her:

a person whole and real, yet a replication.