Stephen Hawking and Life after Death

Science is a wondrous thing, it questions how and when.
It tells us who, and what came first, and things beyond our ken.
Big Bangs and Quarks, Black Holes and such; the darkness is repealed,
And ignorance is banished by the evidence revealed.

Quite soon there’ll be no hidden things; Higgs boson will be found;
And closed doors will be opened by this ‘particle of god’.
One question still remains beyond where scientists like to go.
“It’s not important, quite absurd.” But still we want to know.

The question that’s ignored is, Why? What purpose could there be
In you and me, in life and death, and all we do and see?
Some think the universe is fickle, some think it quite benign.
But could there be behind it a creative force, divine?

Is love an accident, a love that lays no blame,
A love that’s unconditional, that has no selfish aim?
Love seems to contradict the laws of jungle, tooth and claw;
Love turns its back on Number One, puts others to the fore.

Survival of the fittest scorns a death upon a cross.
It makes no sense to suffer if it ends in such a loss.
Yet millions over centuries have claimed that death a sign;
And from that life of brokenness the whole world counts its time.

Inspired by Stephen Hawking who stated in a recent interview that “there is no heaven or afterlife… that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark.”

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5 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Science & Religion

5 responses to “Stephen Hawking and Life after Death

  1. Pingback: The Great Christian, Muslim & Atheist Debate | Wondering Preacher

  2. Pingback: Stephen Hawking: A Question of Faith | Wondering Preacher

  3. Joan Houston

    I think your poem is beautiful, Ian. As in your excellent article in the Witness, you raised the question of why, which science has no capacity to begin to answer. Keep on writing. It’s getting better and better.

    Like

  4. I apologise to my earlier readers; I spelt the great man’s name incorrectly as Hawkins instead of Hawking. Of course I apologise to Mr Hawking too, but I don’t suppose he would be reading my blog.

    Like

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