From Elsewhere

Through all the indifferent
Millennia from the
First Millisecond
To where we stand
On fresh-grown legs,
No quark in the cosmos
Has moved on orders
Of any god. No god ever
Has intervened to make
A Holocaust or flood,
No wind, no wave,
Not anything.
No healing, no sparing,
No rescue ever
Has been sent
In blessing or mercy
From Elsewhere.

A Geometry of Conscience

Is there out there,
Much as the suns are,
Immanent,
A rightness
And wrongness
Of things,
A geometry
Of conscience
Really resident
In the cosmic lattice
Beyond the chemistry
Of our minds?