Nobody Knows

Good morning living step tree
Accumulating drifts of information.
The best arguments for science
Are its plethora of novel questions
Nobody would have asked without it—
Nothing is where it all goes, and not
Where it all came from. The beginning
Began nothing. Until then, pleroma.

It’s an agony for metaphysics
And a toy for poetry, this nothingness
And the whence and wherefore of origins.
Some place the naught at the center
Of everything they have to observe
And tie their knots and number lines
Around that lovely cipher, big fat zero.
Others ban it altogether, ex nihilo nihil fit.

Meanwhile, this glob philosophers
Call home spins around and around.
Things heat up and cool down.
Poets vent pent-up emotions beautifully
And the ear-and-throat gifted sing.
Only the scientists, moving dirt
For the frantic engineers, uncover things,
Ever more and more puzzling things.