Life in Deep Space
True freedom can feel like an exquisite jail
Our inhabited space bound by bars we drink in.
Child’s nutrition once favored, a lap dance now passé,
Our restaurants change with new owners, or chefs find
New orbits, food loved fades as children leave home fires.
In trying new wings, seems they seldom look back!
Moms are left with learned spice tricks but no mouths to feed.
A dad loses his value as children find voices,
Write poems that resonate just in their ears!
Dad’s left scratching his head, finds some pride in their flight
But their orbits seem fractured and lacking a center,
A God that they circle, one star in the heavens he knew
As a child, that he values (whose gravity’s trusted).
He’s hoping against hope genetics are sound.
On leaving the earth, the first astronauts found
A more humble perspective, sufficiency busted,
The earth more a marble that floats, at its best a canoe
(Or a dog a tick feeds on), an owner or renter?
A parasite maybe that stumbles on insight
Its host is quite fragile, though host cries no tears,
Feels no pain, (or regret) at humanity’s choices.
But gravity’s well is as deep as a man’s need
To know if God’s real, there’s some code he might hack
That could give him advantage. Can man kick the tires
Of what happens, post-life? Or is faith more defined
As the best man can do, that’s not bluster or hearsay?
To say faith’s a lie takes faith too: How does that win?
By faith, God is real, Grace and Science, God’s nail!
Brian Johnston
15th of February in 2020
Copyright ©
Brian Johnston
|