That we are here upon this precious Earth
Amidst the mysteries of our Cosmos’ girth,
Alone, for all we know, as living souls
Uniquely conscious though without clear goals,
Is something, nonetheless, to contemplate:
We’ve boundless curiosity to sate.
It was somehow implicit in the plan
That cosmogenesis would lead to man;
Then, if so, doubtless, to life otherwhere,
Though it be galaxies away and rare:
Such calibrations can’t be accident
But show a cosmological intent.
Although our cosmic Source remains in haze,
It’s something, doubtless, worthy of our praise.