Tags
Agnosticism, Atheism, Australian poet, Creation of the Universe, God, poem, poetry, Science and the universe, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet
๐ ๐๐ง๐ข๐ฏ๐๐ซ๐ฌ๐๐ฅ ๐๐ฎ๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง
We sit upon a whirling tilted sphere,
That hurtles through a vacuum at high speed.
And if you donโt think this is rather queer,
You are my friend, a strange fellow indeed.
The Sun (an atom bomb) it is agreed,
We circle once a year. A satellite,
The moon we call it โ like a silver bead,
It shines upon us on a moonlit night.
The stars above on starry nights give light,
And shooting stars sometimes at night they fall,
And though they are to us a splendid sight,
Theyโre meteors โ not really stars at all.
Who set in motion this great cosmic dance?
Or could it all have happened just by chance?
โ D.N. OโBrien
