It’s blue when observed in near view.
Though hardly visible in space and time.
What the nature of the blueness?
Our route is only just beginning.
An inquisition occurs
And the stems bleed their triumph.
Is there life on earth?
If so how is its irruption defined?
What we know is very little.
Our sketchy investigations mere scratches
Of the surface of a futile world.
Such is the Rubber of their trees.
The Carbon and all that water too…
Which particulate finger
Pulled the first trigger?
Is it seriously all born out of a simple Singularity
Or is it merely a venture?
And where was God standing
When he lit the match to all of this?
There are incomplete strings
Which hold humanity in shape.
But what of the spiral
That which ticks boxes along the timeline of life?
Had each portion of gene pool,
Been Gifted and by whom?
Each is the holder of allocated expanse
Each is payee of differential expense.
Where are these turtles to be stacked?
Why, pile them beneath this slab,
Where they offer support.
A Flat Earth, to be studied stupid.
A place where conferences can be held?
There is space for them
Cleared in preparation.
The place is near to mirth
On a rover called Earth.
Here there are rides and woes.
There are tides, there are foes.
© 2018 Christopher Thompson