Stephen Livesey Ashworth, 30 January 2005
(For the British Association for the Advancement of Science’s Universe Competition.)
| Suppose that I could surf a ray of light, Visit the most distant stranded shore Of every galaxy; fly home again before It’s time for tea, in less than one atomic heartbeat: What then might I see? The tale so far: a gale of hydrogen, That storms through halls of thunderbolts and flame, And hammers at the anvil of creation. It forges out of burning nuclei The bones and flesh of earth and sea and sky. So scattered through the fields of stars Are here and there a living seed. A breath of moisture damps the glass, A sunbeam warms the chemistry to speed. A billion years or four are all they need. And when the spiral chains of power Creep up the branching tree of chance, Their tendrils touch a future hour With unsuspected intellectual grace, And anger, fear, and passionate embrace. But surging currents of necessity Drown too much hope in daily suffering, Inspire sad prophets of futility, Or whisper fairytales of bloodstained gods Whose rods of iron permit no questioning. Yet still one mind in millions can raise A curious eye, interrogate the night, Find heaven in the sky, transform coordinates And ask: what would be my geometry If I could ride upon a ray of light? And as the generations rise and fall, And every lonely thinker’s failing breath Accuses the universe with one last desperate call: What is the meaning when I feel the hand of death?! In science can no purpose be assigned – Yet purpose wears a scientific face, And every climber in the unbounded race Beyond the stars of the galactic plane Rejoices in the purpose of all time And relative dimensions in space. |
Stephen Livesey Ashworth, Oxford, UK, sa -- at -- astronist.demon.co.uk
11 July 2008 / 39th Apollo Anniversary Year