The Bauble Poem by James Tipp

The Bauble



Like a Christmas bauble on a black velvet curtain, surrounded by sequins
So the earth spins beautiful full of colour unique in our solar system.
Here only are the questions asked, Why? How? and What for?
The answers cover a multitude of disciplines from Einstein and science
To the people of faiths whose theories are as multiplex and as complex
Each one having a reason or a theory of this spinning life filled globe.
As man circumnavigates the world in hours on that tiny orbiting satellite
On earth humanity struggles with as many diverse problems as nations.
The inner world of humanity remains a mystery, human nature concealed.
We may know we are alone, we may know there is nowhere to escape to.
Yet we continue to destroy the only option that we have, this home base.
Our propensity to destroy and to love in equal amounts baffles our minds.
This dualism of intent seems to remain a constant base line for humanity.
Regardless of revelations of science and theology we remain an enigma.

J Tipp 2015

Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: imagery
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