What's the point of knowing
the universe began with a big, big bang.
When all the energy and spacetime
was squeezed into a singularity,
a single point of origin,
and it exploded, bang.
What's the point of knowing
the universe is destined for
the Big Crunch when everything
will be pulled back into a singularity,
back to a single point,
and aimlessly go off again
with big, big bang.
Seeing more, knowing more seems pointless,
when the point sought after, doesn't matter.
Is there a point to the fall of a sparrow?
Can a butterfly flap change the weather?
Perhaps?
But, what do we get by knowing?
Seeing the sparrow fall,
Seeing the butterfly flap its wings,
and contemplating what it means to us,
is much more meaningful
than knowing the pointless
point of consequences,
in mindless detail.
Over-analysis is paralysis to the senses,
to seeing, hearing, touching, smelling, feeling
and taking it all in.
In some magical ways ignorance is bliss.
Knowing more, knowing the mechanics of being
seems pointless, somehow.
It's the play of the senses we enjoy,
and the joy of finding,
our own special meaning along the way.
It’s the journey!
I say to myself.
It’s the journey!
Savour it.
-
Author:
John Richard Anderson (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 28th, 2021 00:02
- Comment from author about the poem: “The more the universe seems comprehensible, the more it also seems pointless.” ('The First Three Minutes', Steven Weinberg). "There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. ('Hamlet', William Shakespeare). "A butterfly can flap its wings in Peking, and in Central Park, you get rain instead of sunshine.” (Jeff Goldblum, in 'Jurassic Park') “In the end, during our brief moment in the sun, we are tasked with the noble charge of finding our own meaning.” (Brian Greene, 'Until the End of Time: Mind, Matter, and Our Search for Meaning in an Evolving Universe.')
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 31
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Comments6
This, for me, is good and right. I exist, I’m happy about that. I know little else but ‘I’m here because I’m here’.
As I am here, I might just as well make what I can out of it.
Now most of your piece recounts theories which may or may not be overturned some day, and should anyone find them interesting then go for it. But they won’t, don’t worry me overly.
And one more thing – when I cark it, or when the whole world becomes desolate and sterile, it won’t make one iota of difference to the universe……. So I’ll enjoy what I’ve got now and engage with the reality around me. I’d like this world, civilization to be much better than it is, but I don’t think there’s much chance of that…..
Wow. Thanks for your very thoughtful reply. Thanks, Cheers . PS as a scientist , This is big deal for me. I love the aboriginal stories about the stars and sky.
For me knowing means killing the magic of things. As poets we are generally a soppy romantic lot and much prefer seeing what things might be than what they actually are. Good poem FF
I agree it's more about the feel and touch not the dissection! We are all on the journey. Though our paths differ. Let it be.
Knowing ourselves is the most important as with that knowledge we can spread love and kindness to all.
Andy
Yes, so true. Thanks. Best wishes.
When you consider all the money being spent to research the questions about this and that of the universe, wouldn't it be nice to put it to the vote... continue this pointless research or spend the money doing...... well where do I start.... so many worthy causes here on our home.
A good thought provoking write.
Thanks for that. I agree our focus is wrong in so many ways. Cheers
I beg to differ .. it is not always the journey (life per se) .. but the distractions along the way that make it uniquely and individually special ........................................... 🙂
Touché , OK good point you make. Cheers
Good write, F.F.
A Buddhist response. Put your fingers to your ears so you can't hear, close your eyes so as not to see. Count one, two, three quickly open. Singularity or Bang- which is more fun?
Thanks for that. Best Wishes, John
PS. Let sleeping dogs lie. Every dog has his day. You go your way, I'll go mine,. I'll wave to all outta my window. Touché Cliche in Diphthong Duo (love that outrageous word)
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