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It’s time I sat down and faced the big questions:
Genesis of the universe, Origin of Life, and the Limits of the sky.
All this before breakfast!

Most folk have an answer: God.
It doesn’t really work for me.

I think what IS was brought about by accident.
The materials of the stars and planets are really unsolid,
They are composed of energy. That includes us.

One thing about energy is that is restless.
It moves, it goes in circles, and eccentric directions,
Bumping together, forming new combinations,
Like inanimate sex.

These new complexities are novel, surprising and unplanned,
One being what we call life.

Trying to understand the reaches of infinity with our puny brains,
Is like using a yellow sewing-box tape to measure a mile.
We do not have the comprehension to imagine the actuality,
Like two-dimensional entities trying to fathom three-dimensional beings.

Maybe all of time that has passed from the formation of our Earth, to today,
As you read this poem, is a nano-second, or less, in cosmic time.
And it’s probably just as unimportant to unthinking stardust,
Though we fuss and complain, and do mischief.

It’s hard for man to accept that he is not a noble experiment,
But an unexpected result of randomness.
Filled as we are with our own importance.