The Sum Of All Wonder Poem by Richard Lyne

There's still some mystery left in this world.

In the cooling of a young dwarf star and the revolving of the heavens,
In the makings of a fresh, bold world by the breath of God,
In the atmosphere and ethereal vapors that overcast
And offset the infernos of space, here life sets forth in earnest.

In the first bird to take flight as in slow motion
Over the virgin waters, billions of years ago;
In the droplets that fell like strokes upon a piano,
In the first winds to part the long grass,
Herein may the sun ascend to seek the new days of Earth.

In the men who made cities and the women who sustained them,
In the armies that tore them down and the kings who gave them splendor,
In the stones where first were written their songs, words and dreams,
There was wrought the human hand in its dawn.

In the blazing automotive engines, the instruments of precision and the tools;
In the engineered perfection and the electronic tracking;
In the fibers and molecules to which our reverie now returns
And the bonds of souls to which we lift our teary eyes,
Here we begin to see the course of our path. There's still some mystery.