.
What fire
sparked the stars?
Each and every
churning nuclear furnace,
pulverizing matter
into energy,
and fuelling the chaos
of a maelstrom galaxy.
.
Billions more than billions.
More than we can ever comprehend.
A scale of raw violence,
tearing and devouring,
that dwarfs our biggest ambitions,
an beggars the brightest minds.
.
The universe
is a serial killer.
It’s reach is unknown,
its body count untallied,
but even we,
the puny inhabitants
of some backwater rock,
in a no-name galaxy,
know this to be a fact.
.
The cosmos
is a warzone.
.
Here,
on our pale, blue ark,
we somehow seek
to bring down
the violence of the universe
on ourselves,
as if we actually could conceive
of the true reach of chaos,
and the terrible impact
of destruction.
.
We know nothing of fire,
or pressure,
or hunger,
or absence,
but we invite in
these war-bitten strangers
in hopes that they
will serve our own purpose.
As if the rules that charge the universe
would bow
to such finite demi-beings as us.
.
We light the match,
we pull the trigger,
we drop the bomb,
and unleash fury which we cannot reign in.
The spark that lit the stars
escapes us,
devouring us
in our own
utter collapse.
.
.
HG – 2020
