Juxtaposition

Science is such bad faith. Are we to believe that the cosmos, the earth, our very bodies Consist of particles as insentient and cold as the glacial mass of Jupiter? That ordinary thoughts and strokes of genius emerge equally From random firings of neural synapses? That the origins of noble ideals, or loyalty, or commitment Reside in arbitrary molecular motions? That friendship, love, or hate appear ex nihilo, the products Of unfeeling chains of subatomic collusions? Science is such bad faith. The seemingly senseless swirlings of unseen particles are but Corporeal manifestations of a higher calling, Material resonances of the spirit, Soul of the cosmos, the earth, the body. Does not a glance between lovers set in motion The symphony of a trillion trillion molecules? Does not the seeing of the pulchritudinous palette of a sunset Ignite synchronous activities in remote regions of the brain? Do not joy, sadness, or pleasure govern a host Of chemical permutations? Science is such bad faith. Who knows? Perhaps molecules are communities of beings wrapped In passionate embrace. Perhaps even electrons sing and weep And make love.