The living, the living dead -- and a poem

(poem below)
I allow some mystics (they refer to themselves as "Christians") to become friends on Facebook because they have been generally nice to me and have some values I share. But sometimes they forget themselves and ask me to join some mystic endeavor in a foggy-rotten universe of "discussion." This time it was "intelligent design."

And so it happened this a.m. on my fourth sip of coffee while reading emails. Had the defendant caught me just two sips earlier, he would've heard nothing more than muted swearing from a night-befuddled brain. Alas, his message found me on or after my third sip as my mind gains clock-speed. He was tried and convicted in a court of facts via a Facebook message that referred, in moments, to zombies and mystics and pristine sips of coffee and never-never-little-Johnny-are-you-to-do-that-again.

The mystic did, however, awaken the Fact Giant and stirred FG's previous ruminations upon the subject of the living dead among us reality mongers. And so goes the following:

In the beginning, swirling dead birthed life,
Tiny beings alight on edged knife.
All is to win, and this is all -- a world,
Fuming, venting, a DNA unfurled.
Then it comes! Whence, yet still, we do not know,
A wiggle tail and a spangled torso.
In dark shallows, a billioned great spawn,
A meteor, a raging sun, then gone.
And yet, not gone, a few, yes, they the strong,
Stay, remain, survive anew, fast and long.
We, their virile progeny, though unlike,
We, the human, from chimps and trilobite.
How far is father time is length in change,
For the world is stage we now rearrange.
Some is for good, even so, some for naught,
Rational life is fight for is and ought.
"No it is not!" say low creatures of mind,
"We are but insects to divine divine."
The trilobite laughs and the chimp chuckles,
"Who's this new fool who on death suckles?
"Did we not give life, for we had no choice?
"Did we not give you a mind to rejoice?
"Your greatest poet, we did not believe,
"When he proclaimed, 'What fools these mortals be.'
"We have but little choice now than to see,
"That many of you become us and we.
"Bit by bit, we marched forward in time, space,
"Yet you go backward, you, the human race.
"To rejoin your brethren in bloody toil.
"Rather, please listen, we must be your foil.
"Don't be us, and think not of things not so,
"Know what you are, and more, know what you know.
"It is what it is; it ain't what it ain't.
"You have brain, but we offer no complaint.
"You have senses, as we did and we do.
"But you have sensibility sinew.
"Please refrain from things not seen, felt or heard.
"You are alpha-omega, the mind-bird.
"If worship you must, then here's what to do:
"Get a mirror, yes, and see, it is you."