A poetic explantation of the birth of the universe and a quiet plea to the Creator.
CREATION Infinite emptiness, no time nor space, a singularity, a point of light became energy; perhaps not light at all. Perhaps the light would stay, or not. Never there before, the thing should have a name, but there were none to see. BLESSED BE! No words to say how long it stayed; no such a thing as time. Time came after, when the light stretched out, 15 billion years ago, about. The Universe was made. BLESSED BE! Energy became matter, and hydrogen came to be, then slammed in nuclear rage to form the larger Li, in the first microsecond of creation. It must have been a sight to see. BLESSED BE! Each combined with each to form the elements that make all things, and blasted them to space. They joined, and swirled, and grew, to make the systems, stars, and you; to make the lands and sea. BLESSED BE! Now stars and galaxies race apart, expanding into where? If all things are formed the same; all from that point of light. Help us understand the reason why and help us see. BLESSED BE!
Want to review or comment on this
Click here to login!
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!
|Reviewed by Free Spirit
|There's poetry in those lines.|
|Reviewed by Regis Schilken
|Nicely said. I had a room mate in college who was quite a philosopher in his own way. He loved science, particularly the way science keeps breaking being down into smaller and smaller particles hunting the smallest one. He said to me one day,
"It seems that scientists keep learning more and more about less and less until soon, they'll no everything about NOTHING at all."
|Reviewed by John Domino
|Reviewed by Phyllis Du'Gas
|Blessed be is right Francis! Great job!|
|Reviewed by jude forese
|universally appealing and inspired write ...|