Energy does not die…it moves on.
Relentlessly callous, the universe’s finite supply of indestructibility is forevermore falling apart—except here. On this good rock circling at just the right distance from just the right star, life is the trap that reverses the temperament of the universe. If only for a slow-cooked second.
It takes ten million revolutions for the energy at the sun’s core to seep to its surface. Like all that is essential, it escapes. Liberating itself at the speed of light, it takes a fraction of a rotation for that ancient energy to warp through the vacuum of the cosmos and crack terrestrial surface. All to pour a serendipitous blessing on to Earth, our home.
Beams of photons hit the churning magnetic shield around our planet, cannibalizing charged particles that combat in forged storms before exploding ribbons of electrified plasma across our atmosphere. These bolts travel from the edge of space and sky to catalyze land and sea through air, igniting the elements to create somehow sums of why we exist.
For four billion years life has explored and exploited sentient sensation by cleaving against cessation. Ninety-nine percent of all that has ever been has fallen victim to the wake. The remains we have left are a thankless testament to the countless creatures who lived long enough to fornicate their method to the madness. This generational pace keeps chaotic peace at bay all so we may enjoy another day to piece it back together again.
This is how life keeps trying. Yet in that process, life stumbled across an item that made it matter. Life learned to remember. A weightless beacon in a corporeal dungeon, memory is what we have to keep what we are and what we can be from inevitability. Memory is why life cares. And life cares because life dies.
Life recalls and recollects with a sigh, implores us to stay and try, remembering those who have died, failing. Life swallows an ocean of cold current and pressure, losing organic form to flake and sink to the bottom of a bed blanketed with abyss. Life waxes nostalgic while suffocating in muddy defecation, running from the bane of shared creation. Life boils in cauldrons, curses out blizzards and torches on spits as dredged-up ashen bodies litter lives into a never-ending engine of wind and torrent and pain. Life butchers itself with edge and iron, bleeds out for ideology and insecurity, and burns industry and ego grins at the irony. Life passes in its sleep, spent and planted, dreaming up empty connections as it all unravels succumbing to scavengers that exist to do nothing but. Life gives in. Life gives up. Life gives because life dies.
Life is so good at dying because dying is what life does best. Yet in the midst of all of this death, within this entropy recycling pestilence, life has learned and taught itself how give self a reason to persist. Life has invented a reason for keeping, and with that keeping life has gotten stronger, tougher truer, too. Life has realized and shared what it strives to be: eternal, barren of plagues and heat death. More than mere possibility, life is here to discover godly. But life has one last filter to hurdle—itself.
Infinite probability afforded all the possibility that is left in our world. As life’s survivors we have adapted and spawned into the best of what environment, accident, and self could not weed out. We eating, breathing, smiling few are the best chance life has left. Each broiling horizon offers another test at being able to unshackle our flame in a jar. It is up to us whether we can best the plausibility of consequence. If only for just a bit longer.
Energy moves on, but life remembers. Together it might just be enough.