Is there anything in the world not born vulnerable?
Soft-boned birds hatch wet and shivering
fluffs of wrinkled feathers and wide-open mouths
exposed to the air and its unexpected emptiness.
Trees drop seeds that crack open to the earth
sending skyward delicate leaves easily crushed
ground into soil by boots and paws and claws.
New ideas in a swirl of rainbow bubble
held in midair by the thinnest of membranes
invisible protection between it and extinction.
Horses and cows drop to the earth in a bag of slime
stumble to their feet in search of sustenance and warmth
beginning already their long journey to death.
Butterflies in cocoons and bugs in their casings
crawl to the air and solidify their wings and outer shells
a mockery of protection against those that might devour them.
Human babies, caught by strange hands (if they are lucky)
wail against the cold or the heat or the bright lights
and the sudden aloneness
without fangs or fur or hooves or wings
to carry them to their ultimate destiny,
Condemned to plod madly along the earth,
with no defenses anywhere,
un-fanged, un-winged, un-feathered, un-clawed
only a soft body with no protection
except that which it can make itself.
So I ask you: Is there anything?