Poem: Event Horizon

 

Event Horizon

 

whatever pain

hurts exotic limbs, parsecs away,

it means nothing to us.

 

a single cut to a human child

looms larger than some puny nebula.

 

maybe aliens suffer

beyond vales of transgalactic cold;

and yet the form of outer space itself

means we should not bless them.

 

God all-knowing

can traverse the void,

so the Bible relays,

faster than any excuse of time;

 

and yet the Creation

is not an abacus.

credo quía absurdum.

the essence is Faith.

 

all around us, you and i,

louder than intangible stars,

unseen angels pray,

hovered above the desperate.

 

so many mouths, here and now,

unsaved and unfed.

 

 

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8/2/24 ... changed title to Event Horizon

This is a sarcastic poem.  I don't agree with the view expressed.  I am mocking it.