GIFTS FROM SPACE
“WE, THIS PEOPLE, ON A SMALL AND LONELY PLANET
TRAVELING THROUGH CASUAL SPACE
PAST ALOOF STARS, ACROSS THE WAY OF INDIFFERENT SUNS
TO A DESTINATION WHERE ALL SIGNS TELL US
IT IS POSSIBLE AND IMPERATIVE THAT WE LEARN
A BRAVE AND STARTLING TRUTH”
MAYA ANGELOU
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SOUND
“I stand at the seashore, alone, and start to think. There are the rushing waves… mountains of molecules, each stupidly minding its own business… trillions apart… yet forming white surf in unison.”
AN ODE TO THE WONDER OF LIFE
BY RICHARD FEYNMAN & NASA
Ages on ages… before any eyes could see… year after year… thunderously pounding the shore as now. For whom, for what?… on a dead planet, with no life to entertain.
Never at rest… tortured by energy… wasted prodigiously by the sun… poured into space. A mite makes the sea roar.
Deep in the sea, all molecules repeat the patterns of one another till complex new ones are formed. They make others like themselves… and a new dance starts.
Growing in size and complexity… living things, masses of atoms, DNA, protein… dancing a pattern ever more intricate.
WHAT IS THE SOUND OF HUMAN
BEINGS TO THE COSMOS
This byproduct of reality we call life: not probable, not even necessary, and yet it is all we know, because it is all we are, and it is with the whole of what we are that we reckon with reality, that we long to fathom it — from the scale of gluons to the scale of galaxies, from the mystery of the cell to the mystery of the soul.
This byproduct of reality we call life: not probable, not even necessary, and yet it is all we know, because it is all we are, and it is with the whole of what we are that we reckon with reality, that we long to fathom it — from the scale of gluons to the scale of galaxies, from the mystery of the cell to the mystery of the soul. This byproduct of reality we call life: not probable, not even necessary, and yet it is all we know, because it is all we are, and it is with the whole of what we are that we reckon with reality, that we long to fathom it — from the scale of gluons to the scale of galaxies, from the mystery of the cell to the mystery of the soul.
“We forget that nature itself is one vast miracle transcending the reality of night and nothingness.”
Loren Eiseley
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