Steven Hawking did not seek God
In the dark deep depths of the cosmic bog.
Instead he looked for calculations
Theorems, proofs, and explanations.
The what, and when, and how, and why
In immense complexity of sky
Wracked and ruined, body broken
The mind still soaring, thoughts unspoken
Far above our earthly plane
The lofty triumph of the human brain,
A theory fitting everything
Is it just possible God found him?
John Haigis, 11/19/14
A Meditation on Being Human
Is there a God? The question’s not odd;
In fact it is asked every day.
Especially when striving for our daily bread,
Or seeking to find our right way
What does it matter in a cosmos so vast
What human types think, ask, or do?
Like rain softly pattering, does our ongoing chattering
Mean squat to celestial crew?
It’s likely it doesn’t, but that’s not the end
As Elihu tells Job in verse 8
In Chapter 35, yes, Job, you’re alive
But between you and God, you’re not great
Look at the height of the clouds in the air
All of them higher than you
What matter to them if you’re evil or kind?
What matter to them what you do?
No Job, all your actions are all done to your self
And your loved ones and those you call friends,
And strangers and people you don’t even know
It’s to them that you must make amends
Son of man you are here for an instant of time
And God only knows where you’ll go
If you do unto others as you want done to you
You may find it’s a wonderful show.
John Haigis, 11/19/14
Who is this “Me”.
Who is this “me” of which I’m so fond?
What is this self that lives in this pond?
Where is this soul and how does it bond?
When this life is over, how will “I” respond?
It may be apparent that there is no “why?”
That which undergirds everything has no reply.
Always in motion across the whole range
It simply is, always was, and is subject to change.
John Haigis 11/19/14
The mind verily boggles and cannot comprehend,
Did time have a start and when does it end?
Where is the then and which is the now?
It’s all so damn hard to figure out how.
Is time like a loop, or a warm loaf of bread?
Back at beginning, do we find it’s the end?
There is nothing new under sun, Ecclesiastes has said.
History does seem to repeat itself, again and again
Einstein and Hawking, and the like of that crew
Sat pondering mysteries, both timeless and new.
Seeking discovery on how it was done
New theories for everything, it must have been fun.
The quest still continues for the sense and the reasons
Through the cycle of days and the dance of the seasons
We circle the sun on our little green ball,
Enjoying the ride and the wonder of all.
John Haigis 11/20/14
Mysteries in Mysteries
Mysteries in mysteries
On the playing fields of time
Starting from primordial ooze
On going creation
The work of God we see
Through our glasses dimly
The "me" is really "we".
In this phase we can not fathom
All the whys or hows
It's all too big and complex
To some it's called the Tao
To some it is God's purpose
To some it is God's plan
As many think and ponder
What a work is man
John Haigis, 11/10/14
Our Pace in Space
Is there order in the world, or does chaos rule the day?
Do the planets move in harmony, or does randomness hold sway?
There certainly is much passion as new worlds are being born
Cataclysmic conflagrations as the void takes shape and form
And then there are the endings, exploding super-nova stars
Distant reaches of the cosmos, viewed with wonder from afar
But light takes time to travel; the spectacular light show
They tell us may have happened many million years ago
Here on earth we have volcanoes, floods, and hurricanes
Which can make a bloody shambles of our lives and our terrains
Earthquakes still can rearrange the ground beneath our feet
As we hold on and tremble on our shifting, moving seat
So what is there to count on, as we flow through time and space?
On our yearly journey around our sun at a stately, steady pace
Our moon still dances round us all, as we dance round the sun,
Held by gravity and momentum, till our cosmic dance is done
We’re somehow held in balance and don’t drift off into space
As we also keep our distance in a delicate embrace
Not too near, yet not too far, as Goldilocks might say
It somehow seems to be just right, as we float from night to day
Lovers often claim they’ll love, “until the stars do fall”
Which works out fine until those stars have their final curtain call
It all may change and vanish in the blinking of an eye
But ‘till it does I will thank whoever thought of such a sky.
John Haigis, 11/23/14