The Puzzling Question

So quickly moving, time and space,

With rising entropy,

But still, this great, chaotic place

Proceeds so perfectly.

This gorgeous universe is such

A topic of acclaim,

But when and what made it through touch,

And does it have a name?

The answer lies within the web

Where cosmic clusters dwell,

And with each brutal flow and ebb,

Their testimonies tell. 

Observe such planetary works,

Each one distinctly art,

How each one has its own small quirks,

Yet never falls apart. 

Or think of sizeable black holes,

Absorbing what's in sight,

Without their eon-long patrols,

We'd have us quite the plight. 

A star collapses on itself,

A galaxy's in shreds,

Still, see the face of God Himself,

Embedded in their threads. 

For as the brilliant stars do die,

A pain they do not know;

Their elements spread out nearby

So younger stars may grow. 

It's all a work of stunning skill

That caring hands have spun,

Yet time, adhering to His Will,

Has only just begun.

Now, look up at the sky tonight,

And constellate the stars,

Admire God's exquisite light,

For He has made it ours.

- Vera Lear, August 6th, 2024