That first disk of cells, held in place

like a map clamped to a table.

Fate maps, coded cartography of coasts,

unroll their silent directions.

This to become bone.

This to become brain.

And the disk curls into a little boat,

into a tube – like the topography of origami

pleating from two dimensions into three.

 

Maps have a history, an evolution.

What was peninsula on ancient charts

becomes island. Small continents swell,

large extrusions dwindle. Until it emerges —

the familiar shape of a world.

 

And so a fetus changes. Pharyngeal arches shrink 

to the delicate bones of the face. Limb buds lengthen 

from rounded paddles to extensive isthmuses. 

 

As though a child’s unfolding 

is less a tale of growth 

than of discovery.