Examination of Faith (And the Big Bang)
by Matt Mason
First, you need to imagine
a room. The room
There are no chairs.
There is no coat rack,
no pair of shoes
set neatly by the door.
There is no door.
there isn't a floor, either.
Or a ceiling.
But it helps
to imagine them anyway
So, in the room,
the only thing at all
is a marble.
This is where the faith part comes in.
The marble, it's just there.
I can't explain
how it got there
all I know
is that everything
is in that marble.
I mean every
thing. Your breakfast?
It's there. Even the banana. And your mother,
Albuquerque, the Mona Lisa (painting and person) and galaxy Abell 1835
IR1916. Nikola Tesla, he's there,
same with the Sun, quasars, other sciencey-sounding things; the 1983 Heisman
Trophy awarded to Mike Rozier? sure,
and glazed old fashioned donuts (all of them);
maybe not the things themselves, but the matter
they'd someday be made from, every atomy and whatnot; it's
the interconnectedness of all events, objects, people, places
in this non-metaphorical form on this imaginary floor.
after sitting there
or since the moment it existed
(either way: since the beginning),
it goes "bang"
everything spins into being, particles
stretching their arms and bumping
into one another here and there in this newfound thing called "space,"
this new nothing between one another, making
Jupiter, Robert Frost, the Ogallala Aquifer, you know the drill,
in the places they congregate.
they sit in silence
of the darkest nights
in their slit-top cathedrals,
they listen at the sky,
ears turned reverently to all