Monday, April 13, 2009


Don’t tell me there is no propensity
Inherent in mere stuff and energy
To rise to most miraculous design
Toward which a conscious Cosmos must incline.

Perhaps there’s no Intelligent Designer,
No Godly Architect nor Wise Opiner
Whom we personify to thank and praise,
Yet Something has made us from cosmic rays.

For nothing was till that Initial Blast
Which proved the only present with no past:
The start of time and all futurity,
From which this universe has come to be.

Now here we are to think and to reflect,
Disposed to show this Cosmos due respect.