It began with an act of supreme violence — a big bang expanding ever outward, cosmos born of matter and gas,
Matter and gas ten billion years ago.
Whose idea was this?
Who had the audacity for such invention?
And the reason?
Were we part of that plan ten billion years ago?
Are we born only to die?
To be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth before giving way to our generations?
If there is a beginning, must there be an end?
We burn like fires in our time only to be extinguished. To surrender to the elements’ eternal reclaim. Matter and gas… will this all end one day? Life no longer passing to life, the Earth left barren like the stars above, like the cosmos.
Will the hand that lit the flame let it burn down?
Let it burn out?
Could we, too, become extinct?
Or if this fire of life living inside us is meant to go on, who decides?
Who tends the flames?
Can he reignite the spark even as it grows cold and weak?