Are we an improbable reality or myth?

A baked happenstance of stardust and quarks

Twisted and linked in molecular spiderwebs

Spun into sugars, amino acids, peptides and nucleotides.

A prebiotic sludge patiently mingled

To miraculously forming the beings we see as real.

Absent from the chemistry is the essence:

What makes you you and me me?

For what purpose do we think? Or do we?

What’s the purpose of our life, our soul.

Confusion or figments of chemical fusion

No one can explain or even know why

If there is cause or explanation.

Are we as deceived as the ancients to believe

Divinations in the stars explain the will of gods?

We read the Big Bang’s spill, atoms etching atoms

And cypher a language from the chaos.

Do we inch closer to understanding?

Or is the code a story teasing truths

But merely random without substance or being.