The possibility of life on other planets appears high. The chances of us finding it (or them finding us) in an expanding universe seems very low. The poetic possibilities when contemplating this are infinite.
Category Archives: Scientist
The fundamental units of the Universe are its suns; its basic building blocks. Its galaxies are likened to cells in our bodies. Thus, its dark matter becomes flesh, unseen from inside. Its black holes are like cancer that feed oh, so slowly. Over billions and billions of billions of years. Yet its soul–yes its soul–is so human: Tragic, complex and unknowable.
One may argue that the difference between what is known and what is mythical, magical, supernatural is our knowledge of the science behind it. The sun was a god until we realized it was a ball of burning elements that our planet revolves around.
But is not the sun still godlike?
Science may indeed dispel myths. But in turn, it presents new questions that need poets and philosophers to ponder…and mistakes for humankind to long brood upon.
The relationship between poetry and science is not unlike that of church and state: We believe we keep them separate even though we know they are eternally intertwined because they share a common ingredient: Human beings.
Remarkably, poetry and science ultimately share the same goal and by the same means: Enlightenment through imagination. Poetry through introspection, science through deduction. Both through infinite experimentation.
Science attempts to explains what we understand. Poetry, especially speculative poetry, attempts to describe what we do not. Scientists often act like poets, poets like scientists.
Some more learned scholarly thoughts on science and poetry:
There are three histories for every event: The history that actually happened; the history as perceived by witnesses to the event; the history of the event as interpreted by everyone else.