Yesterday was Earth Day and the prompt was to write a poem about a plant. I write about plants all the time, so I thought I'd do something different. This is actually one I've been working on for a while.
A Birth of Sorts
The universe was born on a particularly dull,
totally-nothing-to-remember and even cumbersome evening
during which for its entirety, absolutely nothing of note occurred.
This is mostly because humans had yet to emerge to give meaning to anything,
So it was all quite blah really.
When finally the universe had fully erupted
from its black hole womb of nothingness incarnate,
no one could even be sure it had made a sound at all,
although for a sound to be perceived, there must be ears,
or some other sort of organ to sense it,
and those things had yet not become.
So, really, the idea of a big bang is hilarious,
and one could spend innumerable hours musing
at the silliness of it all,
which is just about enough time
for complexity to start to arise.
And when complexity rears its ugly beautiful head,
beware boys, for anything goes
and when you mix it with infinity
it is bound to get wild.