Originality ( a poem of greatest inspiration)
The great explosion, the most original event, the beginning... its extent,
A matter of conjecture in the human mind, many thoughts to circumvent.
Twas but an ogre, playing with fire, then about this world to so conspire,
A simple accident, played by a buffoon, soon to mushroom, by all's desire.
As of this atomic world, we're all a part, all of a beginning, an original start,
A foolish accident, to seem so absurd, as a simple grunt to replace a word.
Must not there be, an more accurate account, more complex to all surmount.
No human mind, is so conferred, as a tree falls in a forest, to land, unheard.
Who, what, when and how, must we ask such questions, us to avow,
Does it really matter, when all began, or just how, we may understand?
Millions of eons, our keeping of time, does each count, have to rhyme,
As an accounting, each woman and man, there has to be a master plan.
Is our own universe, just one of many, not to count more than any,
Worlds within worlds, those to swirl afar, each planet, its bright star?
Could this fine craft, be an artist's domain, on high, where he must reign,
Might we each be as tiny dots in time, small particles of the molecular?
Should our maestro to compose us all, as his orchestration,
Its splendid musical refrain, of his, in a heavenly adulation?
This grandest architect, builder of worlds and all that's within it,
A finest sculptor of marvelous works, that of the human spirit.
We, as human kind, relate to that, relevant to all our senses,
What we see and hear, touch and feel, nature so dispenses.
Storms all have to have a reason, as rain falls in every season,
Each thunderous sound, and lightning's flash, in their cohesion.
The origin of all species, in a most humanistic regards, that of theses,
A gradual acclimation, an evolving postulation, a God it so dismisses.
Everything began as a bang, disregarding worst slang, its circumstances,
As the planets revolve about the sun, over the eons. in eternal dances.
A benevolent and most patient creator, is the falsehood eliminator,
The grandest maker and God of all, and as the finest accentuator.
Made in his image alone, not a cold hard stone, a warm perpetuator,
Formed from clay by his hands, is his evolving theory, our originator.