Life Throughout the Solar System

We've sent cameras. Here's what they've seen:
Swirling motion; to our eyes, devoid of meaning,
Of what we, so weirdly grand, have labeled “life”
On this dull orb, which rotates, third in line,
Around a smallish star. We cannot know what
Percolates within the clouds, the gases and the ice
Those cameras let us see. Perhaps, their swirling
Mimics ours, and something grows which claims
It's living, sees, with hubris much like ours,
Itself as being on its planet, but not of it;
Special, when, in fact, what says it “lives,”
Out there, as here, is but a facet of the motion,
Without any meaning; nothing much at all.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2021-05-04 at 00:38

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