Dinosaur on Dinosaurs

I've been working on a poem entitled, "Dinosaur", which I'm trying to cleverly craft into a statement about aging but found myself drifting along on a tangent examining the latest chapter of scientific skullduggery referred to as "revive and restore". So, the original idea of Dinosaur, being the act of pushing away older people before they somehow infect the culture with slow and outmoded systems and ideas, let's call it Dinosauration, morphed suddenly into an interest in examining the ethics and morality of bringing back extinct species. Rife with controversy yet so out-of-this-world fascinating in an almost Jules Verne sense, I argued in its favor recently, in theory, with a young friend who is an avowed environmentalist. When I asked what her thoughts were concerning revival of the woolly mammoth, which I only used as an example because I love saying "woolly mammoth" and had just seen a picture of one with its enormous curved tusks, she responded negatively, immediately citing the well-used "playing God" as an example of the conceit of such an endeavor. Now, she is an atheist, as am I, and immediately took back the idea of "playing God" since any red-blooded atheist would see the folly of using that phrase. However, the tinkering with the natural order of things was the real issue here and she felt that the scientific community's efforts, energies and monies would be better spent trying to save the species not yet extinct; the critters that are still just barely wining and dining, and choking and grasping and tenuously existing in a world they can still call their own. Which begs the question, what is the purpose of science and what should it pursue? Should it only "fix" things in this world with a myopic gaze on practical solutions for self-created problems or might that carefully adjusted focus limit the depth of sight and narrow all peripheral possibilities? In other words, if we shield our gaze from the stars and sun and moon, looking only at Mother Earth, is it possible we could become burrowers, digging in and unable to see the light outside of our tunnels? I'm not sure what motivation should power scientific inquiry but I feel certain that if a real Jurassic-like park appears in the outlands of Siberia containing a cast of characters from the Pleistocene Age, including the Woolly Mammoth, the motivation will be money. There's no money in gnat catchers. Said by a true dinosaur.