In the Next Life, Canto II, stanzas 22-27

Now that I’m sure, I guess I’ll tell my friends.
Now I can show them I’m not overjuiced.
Now I can show them how the journey ends.
I can explain the way we’ve reproduced.

I know what they will say; they’ll say “Aha!
We now know how our loved ones have been lost.
So this is what it means to be a ma.
Is there a way that we can cut the cost?”

But I don’t know that thinking thus is wise.
I’d be uneasy if we changed our course.
One’s parents’ truths don’t mean much if one dies,
and yet they have to be one’s guiding force.

Self-preservation is a big concern,
but in the past we weren’t forced to decide.
There’s been no conflict with the ways we learn.
In fact, they’ve always acted as our guide.

It probably won’t matter anyway.
What can we do when we are not aware?
Is there something that we could do today
against tomorrow’s danger to prepare?

I guess we could try covering the light
that always glows before we disappear.
Well, I sure won’t, but I know some who might,
and their demise will justify my fear.

©2010 Louis A. Merrimac

I can explain: This is the point of crossing from ignorance to knowledge of the mechanics of reproduction. Merrimac is saying that it changes the dynamic of the carriers’ behavior, and by implication that the same thing happened to our ancestors.
Covering the light: A robot method of birth control. This is another place where a little further explanation might have helped. After reading the entire story, a reader might induce that the insiders turn on a red light to signal to those in other carriers that theirs is ready to mate. When two such meet, they wait for dark, and then proceed to the airport.
I sure won’t: This is the beginning of carrier morality. 56 thinks she is playing it safe by allowing “nature” (as we flesh-and-blood types would say) to take its course. She’s dead wrong, yet natural selection (I think that expression is appropriate without quote marks here) favors her viewpoint in the end, and thereby becomes the standard belief.