They gaze at my star-filled skies,
seeking some comforting sign,
that in this vast coldness lies
the Benevolent Divine.

They launch intricate machines
to probe my deepest space.
Awed by ancient cosmic scenes,
they revere this lifeless place.

With brilliant minds they contemplate
what my distant worlds may hold,
and yearn to one day populate
a place less marvelous and bold.

They search longingly way out here
where I glitter in endless dark,
though their answers dwell so near
while I lie furthest from the mark.

Not to be venerated,
I’m mere remnants left behind
when a Bang reverberated
through a Universe designed

to conceive, bear and cradle
a small, yet precious thing
whose existence did enable
a most pure and sacred Being

to emerge in stunning glory
throughout their dazzling blue-green globe,
each line of the Divine story
fully open for them to probe.

And yet they’re unaware,
their sun, sea, rain and air,
miraculous and rare,
hold Holiness right there.

Instead they look to me,
an empty entity,
devoid of empathy,
because they cannot see

the wise, compassionate Presence
dwells precisely where they are,
a singular magnificence
well nurtured by their star.

Their world’s been clearly marked
by the passionate Hand that sparked
the explosion that gave birth
to a life-sustaining Earth.