First there was nothing,
piled upon nothing.
Desolate oblivion,
stretched out forever,
immutable and infinite,
but for a single point,
a speck,
a pinpoint prick,
solitary within this epitome of void.

That fecund mass,
eternities ago,
birthed our boundless universe
in coruscating glory,
sending forth the galaxies-to-be,
in torrential waves of splendor.

First there was nothing,
piled upon nothing.
Now there is much
and we in the middle,
blithe spirits on a crowded world,
spinning in a crowded universe
that will grow ever colder
till existence is defunct.

It began with a bang.
It began with a bang.
It began with a bang.
And it ends,
not with a whimper,
but a shiver.