National Poetry Month--Day Elf--Hologram?--Terse Verse

 Here's my unrelated-to-the-type bit of poetry:

String Theory and the Universe-as-Hologram Postulation

Scientists struggle to satisfy 
Limitless questions, 

The answers of which they ignore.
Who are we? How did we come to be?
Why are we here? What shall we become?

You wish to discover the nature of

The universe in all its sweeping majesty

Without attributing it to the one Person 

Capable of accomplishing the work.

Symphonies of light and rock, threnodies of gravity and gravel

And life in all its vast array

Worlds infinitely complex and varied.

Our own planet
Stands unconquered by Mankind. 

Of course you scramble about trying to cram 

The cosmos' breathtaking scope

Into tiny theories too small and cramped.

Now you say the universe consists of one giant hologram 

Based on String Theory
And generally uniform cosmic heat 

A neat contrivance that fits your puny postulations

That makes your equation tally. 

A giant hologram, you say?

Seriously? 

Do you also believe they staged the moon landing?

And how would
This idea fit 
With your pilot-less 
Big Bang theory? 

Who made the hologram, I ask
If there is no one wielding the hammer?
If the universe merely 
Burst into intricate being
And infinite variety
By itself? 
The odds don't even compute.
Hologram? The theory must keep 
God giggling at man's preposterous folly

What of Mars, which even yet bears the lacy tracks 

Of tiny tin toy man-made Rovers?

Saturn's Titan wears a probe from which
Only fifteen years past surface images 
Streamed through space towards Earth.

What of Luna, where Man's flags 
And footprints etch the dust?

Hologram? I think not.

You, the blind, 
Cannot comprehend 
The magnificence God wields 

For your own hands and minds echo with relative emptiness.

Too small to encompass the thought 

That God, an Immortal Being in all His puissant majesty 

Wielding power you cannot call up nor conceive

Could form the vast spaces and fill them
With teeming life, water, and light 

Intricate traceries set in eternal motion

Built to spectacular design

A myriad ordered stars 
And planets. 

And Mankind.
What of us? 
Was ever a man generated out of  
Raw building block molecules,
Made solely by the hand of Man?
No.
Not man nor animal nor smallest particle 
Has man manufactured by his own hand.

Has any man set even one real planet spinning in orbit?

No. 
Junk and a Spacelab.
"Thus no person can," you say with the 
Incredible effrontery
Of a child with his hands
Over his ears.

I say

OPEN YOUR MINDS.

 ©2020 by H. Linn Murphy

  Today we're doing Terse Verse. You can learn about it here. Here are mine:

For when you want to lose your mind:
 Mime Time

What happens when you leave the greens on the table over night?

Pallid Salad 

When you take your boy to the barber shop:

Heir's Hairs

When you forget to bring the dog back inside:

Dog Fog