Perhaps

 

 (Picture Credit - PS Mag com - "God Letting Go")

 

Perhaps someone thought of an Existence:

A Cosmos so arranged

That its skies would be adorned with stars

Full of worlds

Where sentient life was

Inevitable.

 

Just an inkling of a thought,

A singularity

That dreamed of a singularity

From which Everything emerged.

All imaginable good and evil,

Making Pandora’s Box look trivial.

Evolving intelligence

From primordial slime.

Wonders everywhere that we

Will never see.

 

All from just a thought.

But better think on this:

We are that thought.

 

Paul Butters

 

© PB 20\8\2021.

Common World

 

(Picture Credit - Proxima Centauri World from Astronomy Mag)

This little world is like most worlds

Throughout the Cosmos.

Here the sun never moves

From its place in the sky:

Seemingly endless morning or eve,

Take your choice.

 

No concept of time.

No seasons.

Nothing to show the passing of the years.

Just that sun.

Moons optional.

 

The plants are black

Under a dark red sky

All sombre

All still

Apart from the odd cold wind

From this planet’s “Dark Side”.

 

For, like most planets,

This world resides in the Goldilocks Zone

Of a Red Dwarf Star

A zone where water may flow

Under the glow of a star

Like the vast majority of stars

Throughout the universe.

 

This world’s residents might well look out

Into space

With envy at our golden sun

With its blue Earth

Adorned with a coat of green

And its seasons

And days and nights.

 

They may learn from us about time

About our freedom to roam a long way

Without meeting tropical desert

And eternal frost on the dark side.

 

They may gasp in wonder

At this Paradise of ours

As they ponder their black grass

And hide from solar flares.

No respite from that relentless red sun,

No sense of time

Apart from monotony.

 

And they might wonder at us,

As we fail to care

For our glorious world

As it basks in our golden sun.

 

Paul Butters

 

© PB 28\7\2001.

The Miracle

 

(Picture Credit - "God Letting Go" by PS Mag com)

 

The miracle –

To see, to feel, to touch, to hear, to smell

To be

To know I’m me.

 

A miracle repeated centillions of times over:

From the tiniest bug to the tallest tree.

So many sentient beings

Brimming with thoughts and feelings

Powerful emotion

And boundless imagination.

 

Evolution is but a continuation

From some timeless beginning

That could have created time itself.

 

Particles still wink in and out of existence –

Endless miracles beyond our vision.

All animals are just like us,

Seeing, feeling, thinking, wondering.

 

We take all this for granted

Rushing about

With our petty concerns –

Seldom taking the time

To stop

And look

At the sheer wonder

That is

Now.

 

Paul Butters

 

© PB 11\7\2021.

A Spiritual Place

 

(Picture Credit - Love Exploring)

A spiritual place.

Set amongst ancient mountains

All clothed with timelessly old trees.

Streams and waterfalls gurgling

Down to meandering rivers.

 

Countless ancestors buried

Or ashes scattered here.

Battered old castles

Haunted mansions

Even the odd old parsonage

Perched upon a bleak northern hill.

 

You can’t put your finger on it,

But there is something in the air:

More than the howling wind;

Still present even when the thunder

And lightning

Stops.

 

Ghosts of the past are amongst us

As surely as the aromas of flowers

And cut grass.

 

The ancient souls are still with us,

No doubt wondering

What the hell we are doing.

For here are civilisations that

Have basked in glory

For many generations

Only to fall and crumble.

Abandoned, lost cities,

Cultures and even languages

That have blossomed and thrived

Only to fade away.

 

Perhaps the same fate awaits us too.

All things must end.

For even the very universe

Will fade away

Into a misty sea of protons

Leaving no memory of anything

Or anyone.

 

All that will remain

Is this spiritual backdrop

Countless souls

Refusing to go away

Even in the blackest night.

Dry ice still creeping

Through the gloom,

Never surrendering.

 

Paul Butters

 

© PB 25\6\2021.