We don't make a language of a dozen words
cant build a city out of a thousand lego bricks
or a duck with all possible resources.
The bird would not get off the ground 
if it were a few bits of plastic snapped together.
(Well it might but it wouldn't lay a fucking egg would it)

Stars must explode; violently produced treasures
spraying out into space to coalesce under gravity,
forming worlds like ours rich in rare elements.
Bubbling steaming chemistry must continue
for billions of years before intelligent life might emerge
from an accumulation of happy accidents.

But let's not be bemused 
by the eons of waste time that stretch before and after
nor by the vast emptiness of the inter-galactic abyss.
"What's the point of it all?" is the wrong question to ask.
What's the point of YOU is more like it.
Just understand, you or an ant couldn't exist 
in a universe much simpler.
(see above)

Would a god tell different stories 
to different congregations?
Is every flower visited by the same bee?
Has anyone yet lived long enough
to know it all? No community 
may claim the answers
to life, the universe and everything
(religion is the duck in the first verse)
but that shouldn't mean we despair 
and say "What's the point?"
We look deliberately at the stars we cannot reach
(when roving clouds allow)
and are invariably the better for it
when we return to Earth with a bump.