Poets for Science
Global Gallery

Cold Play

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A sliver,
an infinitesimally
insignificant slice—

that is what our window
of existence feels like
in the infinite ocean
of space-time—
we appear,
meander,
and disappear.

Our years,
trivial in the cosmic scale,
yet supremely significant
in this life of ours—
we linger in a slender window,
replete with joy,
sadness, boredom,
and above all wonder…

What is this universe
without us?
A cold play
with no audience!

Just dead planets,
asteroids,
infernal stars—
galaxies of them,
vast nebulae,
and blackholes—

all playing to a cold script,
composed in nature’s lingua franca—
mathematics,
with rigid guidelines,
and impersonal laws
they never violate
and whose author remains—
anonymous.