Though “Homo sapiens” is still a reach
(Implying wisdom should define our kind),
More modest Homo faber is our niche
Declaring it’s for making we’re designed.
As we ourselves are Maker made somehow,
We emulate that same creative power,
And in our turn seek also to allow
Some generation of our own to flower.
Perhaps in time we shall grow sapient
And our inventions prove supremely wise,
Though now it’s folly that’s most evident
In most of the contraptions we devise.
If we can make less trouble, that’s a start;
Though wisdom is a stretch, we may grow smart.