I don’t think
God has a face
But perhaps
He’s a star
Within us

Collapsing fast
From illusion
Of the chaos
Tainting
Our souls

When entropy
Rules in favor
Like fate
That’s randomly
Ordered

Among these planets
Basing
Their gravities
Learned
On fear

Which assumes
No mind can think
Beyond
That burning
Center

Toward vastness
Deeply troubled
Inside
This sprawling
Doubt

Between old points
Where age
Is a death
All men
Will worship

Exploring space
Around them
For the sake
They may bend
Laws

So physics
Loses strength
If divinity
Yields
Its answers

Implying
Heaven’s waiting
At this edge
Of what
We know

Destroying
Time itself
Through that cross
Which burns
Eternal

By wormholes
Called awareness
Waking saints
From living
Hells.

– J. Pigno