Part 1-
Driving down an open road,
lost among the trees.
The closer they come,
the faster they seem
to approach me--
the parallax:
a change in the angle
as it relates
to the position
from which I see.
And from here
we can measure
the stars closer to us
from those more distant,
regardless of one
shining more brightly.
Caught in a curvature
on a cosmic cruiser,
we travel around the sun--
an ordinary star
among billions,
average in size,
glowing yellow in our sky.
A heart, fusing
hydrogen to helium atoms,
set on the edge
of a spiral arm.
We glimpse
only a mere fraction
with the naked eye--
just .0001% of those
formed over time,
gathered on a barred
spiral
we call the Milky Way.
Herschel painstakingly categorized
the stars he could see,
counting pinpricks in the dark,
estimating the size of our galaxy:
100 thousand light-years across,
also rotating, slowly--
each revolution
100 million years apart.
Hubble expanded our senses,
envisioning that
in the vast emptiness
we were not alone. Using indirect methods
he toiled,
measuring luminosities
until nine other galaxies arose.
Our neighbors proved
far-off and remote,
but the Drake Equation
could now be conceived--
with current calculations
of at least 100 billion stars
in each
of the 100 billion galaxies!
Upon further observations
we found Stellar Spectra,
a characteristic of having
different chemical elements,
revealing these balls of gas
not to be uniform
nor sharing the same temperaments.
Different colors, sizes,
and temperatures,
emitting varying waves
of thermal radiation--
stars were not only composed
of different atoms,
but their galaxies were
increasingly receding!
Through Blackbody Radiation,
Hubble could detect
a shifting pattern
in the light waves
moving to the red end
of the spectrum,
just as one would expect
in a Doppler Effect:
when sound crests
shorten or stretch
depending on the
source's locomotion,
so too do light waves lengthen
the further a galaxy's
remote registration.
This shift,
increasing in proportion
to their distance
charted from our location!
Our universe was spreading out!
These other galaxies were dispersing!
This was not a static universe--
it was a universe expanding!
lost among the trees.
The closer they come,
the faster they seem
to approach me--
the parallax:
a change in the angle
as it relates
to the position
from which I see.
And from here
we can measure
the stars closer to us
from those more distant,
regardless of one
shining more brightly.
Caught in a curvature
on a cosmic cruiser,
we travel around the sun--
an ordinary star
among billions,
average in size,
glowing yellow in our sky.
A heart, fusing
hydrogen to helium atoms,
set on the edge
of a spiral arm.
We glimpse
only a mere fraction
with the naked eye--
just .0001% of those
formed over time,
gathered on a barred
spiral
we call the Milky Way.
Herschel painstakingly categorized
the stars he could see,
counting pinpricks in the dark,
estimating the size of our galaxy:
100 thousand light-years across,
also rotating, slowly--
each revolution
100 million years apart.
Hubble expanded our senses,
envisioning that
in the vast emptiness
we were not alone. Using indirect methods
he toiled,
measuring luminosities
until nine other galaxies arose.
Our neighbors proved
far-off and remote,
but the Drake Equation
could now be conceived--
with current calculations
of at least 100 billion stars
in each
of the 100 billion galaxies!
Upon further observations
we found Stellar Spectra,
a characteristic of having
different chemical elements,
revealing these balls of gas
not to be uniform
nor sharing the same temperaments.
Different colors, sizes,
and temperatures,
emitting varying waves
of thermal radiation--
stars were not only composed
of different atoms,
but their galaxies were
increasingly receding!
Through Blackbody Radiation,
Hubble could detect
a shifting pattern
in the light waves
moving to the red end
of the spectrum,
just as one would expect
in a Doppler Effect:
when sound crests
shorten or stretch
depending on the
source's locomotion,
so too do light waves lengthen
the further a galaxy's
remote registration.
This shift,
increasing in proportion
to their distance
charted from our location!
Our universe was spreading out!
These other galaxies were dispersing!
This was not a static universe--
it was a universe expanding!
Part 2-
What seemed to be
an intellectual revelation
also appeared fitting
within the seams
of General Relativity.
The fudge factor,
"anti-gravity",
a subtle cosmological constant--
blinded Einstein from this reality
having woven it
into the fabric
of space-time,
erroneously
concealing the fact
without expansion
at a critical rate
gravity
would have caused us to collapse,
the universe
to self-annihilate.
Or was this too,
too quick a judgment?
We needed someone
brave enough
to question it,
to challenge the notions
others had simply accepted.
The stage was set
for our next
physicist mathematician.
an intellectual revelation
also appeared fitting
within the seams
of General Relativity.
The fudge factor,
"anti-gravity",
a subtle cosmological constant--
blinded Einstein from this reality
having woven it
into the fabric
of space-time,
erroneously
concealing the fact
without expansion
at a critical rate
gravity
would have caused us to collapse,
the universe
to self-annihilate.
Or was this too,
too quick a judgment?
We needed someone
brave enough
to question it,
to challenge the notions
others had simply accepted.
The stage was set
for our next
physicist mathematician.
Part 3-
In a roundabout way,
we're led back
to the very beginning,
wondering how
our universe got its start.
Ideas tumbled around
like dust clouds
on an early autumn day
in a desert park
and off tongues
like dewdrops
rolling down flower petals
in spring
Hummingbirds sip up.
Across various laboratories
new data was analyzed
until one theory
rose to the top.
Now, but a faint,
red-shifted
microwave radiation,
was once a densely packed, hot,
white-glowing hydrogen gas
at dawn--
eagerly burst forth
from a teeny tiny plasmic spot.
Heard, not yet observed,
as a cosmic background noise,
A murmur from far beyond
our cradle of life,
360 degrees around
our axis and our sun,
wavering only the tiniest amount--
this was our overture, and it
confirmed Friedmann's first assumption:
universal distribution.
Zoomed out,
the universe was identical
in every direction.
Like standing in a forest--
not all the trees are the same,
but at scale
their differences average out.
Like countless points on a circle,
each distinct, yet together
form a legato so smooth
their breaks are indistinguishable.
Friedmann disregarded the cosmological constant,
solved Einstein's equations himself,
proving General Relativity showed
the galaxies were receding--
floating islands of gas, metal, and light
drifting apart from each other
at a proportional rate
to the space between them.
His second assumption,
though impossible to prove,
was that this would be so
in an endless symmetry,
requiring the humility
that we are not the center
of anything,
no more or less special
than Andromeda
or the Canis Major Dwarf--
just a more moderately sized
member of the collection.
Picture a balloon expanding,
covered in various-sized spots,
evenly distributed.
They spread slowly apart,
and no matter on which you start,
the measurements
to any relative spot
you find to be consistent.
In his initial model
Friedmann derived the shape
of our cosmos
as a spherical space,
lacking boundaries,
expanding at a critical rate
but just slow enough
that eventually,
it won't be able to escape--
gravity folding in on itself,
theoretically,
once you reach the end,
you're right back
at the beginning.
An eternal loop,
an infinite journey.
But Friedmann's solution gave birth
to two alternative destinies.
The first:
instead of a slow
barley critical rate,
our universe was expanding rapidly
gradually slowing with time,
but never retracting, and
forever stretching out
into the unknown.
The second:
not just a change in pace,
but a shift in shape!
The cosmos, perhaps,
geometrically flat
still curving
in response to mass,
expanding just beyond
the critical rate,
balanced between return and escape.
Which will be our fate?
What best describes
our beginning or end state?
Are there other matters
we have yet to detect,
or energies gravity contends with?
What more is there to know
about this geometric design?
What is the total volume of it?
Narrowing down our answers
has only added to our list of questions
and we continue to mull over
the possible outcomes.
we're led back
to the very beginning,
wondering how
our universe got its start.
Ideas tumbled around
like dust clouds
on an early autumn day
in a desert park
and off tongues
like dewdrops
rolling down flower petals
in spring
Hummingbirds sip up.
Across various laboratories
new data was analyzed
until one theory
rose to the top.
Now, but a faint,
red-shifted
microwave radiation,
was once a densely packed, hot,
white-glowing hydrogen gas
at dawn--
eagerly burst forth
from a teeny tiny plasmic spot.
Heard, not yet observed,
as a cosmic background noise,
A murmur from far beyond
our cradle of life,
360 degrees around
our axis and our sun,
wavering only the tiniest amount--
this was our overture, and it
confirmed Friedmann's first assumption:
universal distribution.
Zoomed out,
the universe was identical
in every direction.
Like standing in a forest--
not all the trees are the same,
but at scale
their differences average out.
Like countless points on a circle,
each distinct, yet together
form a legato so smooth
their breaks are indistinguishable.
Friedmann disregarded the cosmological constant,
solved Einstein's equations himself,
proving General Relativity showed
the galaxies were receding--
floating islands of gas, metal, and light
drifting apart from each other
at a proportional rate
to the space between them.
His second assumption,
though impossible to prove,
was that this would be so
in an endless symmetry,
requiring the humility
that we are not the center
of anything,
no more or less special
than Andromeda
or the Canis Major Dwarf--
just a more moderately sized
member of the collection.
Picture a balloon expanding,
covered in various-sized spots,
evenly distributed.
They spread slowly apart,
and no matter on which you start,
the measurements
to any relative spot
you find to be consistent.
In his initial model
Friedmann derived the shape
of our cosmos
as a spherical space,
lacking boundaries,
expanding at a critical rate
but just slow enough
that eventually,
it won't be able to escape--
gravity folding in on itself,
theoretically,
once you reach the end,
you're right back
at the beginning.
An eternal loop,
an infinite journey.
But Friedmann's solution gave birth
to two alternative destinies.
The first:
instead of a slow
barley critical rate,
our universe was expanding rapidly
gradually slowing with time,
but never retracting, and
forever stretching out
into the unknown.
The second:
not just a change in pace,
but a shift in shape!
The cosmos, perhaps,
geometrically flat
still curving
in response to mass,
expanding just beyond
the critical rate,
balanced between return and escape.
Which will be our fate?
What best describes
our beginning or end state?
Are there other matters
we have yet to detect,
or energies gravity contends with?
What more is there to know
about this geometric design?
What is the total volume of it?
Narrowing down our answers
has only added to our list of questions
and we continue to mull over
the possible outcomes.
Part 4-
You, matter--
that which light reflects off,
the full spectrum revealed,
uncovering worlds
our retinas were not designed for.
We try to measure up,
to come to consensus--
the weight of it,
illuminated.
We find some matters
to be dark,
refusing to play
in the same way.
Their presence is still felt,
organizing the clusters,
establishing relationships
with the galaxies
and their farthest coordinates.
Particles we'd once
written off as unattractive
reveal their masses.
We wonder at all
we are unaware of,
having to acknowledge
the shortcomings
in our own biology--
most of what's in the universe
we did not evolve to see.
Our assumptions lacking,
the sum of
what has been perceived,
will never be enough
to slow the growth
of our space-time.
Whether round or flat,
there is no way
it could collapse,
or slow down enough
to explain our current
trajectory.
There is some peace
in this:
as space continues
to expand,
time will stretch
along with it--
a Never-Ending Story,
an endless expanse.
We will have
the rest of life
to uncover it.
But what of
Friedmann's three fates?
Must there be
another way
our universe is expanding?
Are there other matters
unaccounted for?
Or elusive dark energies
with which we are
timidly interacting?
New observers describe
an incrementing rate--
gravity is not slowing us down.
We are picking up pace,
space-time growing
at an exponential rate--
except when caught
on the Horizon,
where physics unravels,
where space and time
switch place.
Was Einstein right
about anti-gravity?
Must we fudge our way
to an understanding,
base our knowledge
and new technology
on unproven facts
and lazy loading?
Or is the truth still
hiding in the shadows
between the stars,
playing games with our heart--
waiting for those
patient and persistent
eager-eyed
cryptic souls
to see what others
have yet to imagine.
that which light reflects off,
the full spectrum revealed,
uncovering worlds
our retinas were not designed for.
We try to measure up,
to come to consensus--
the weight of it,
illuminated.
We find some matters
to be dark,
refusing to play
in the same way.
Their presence is still felt,
organizing the clusters,
establishing relationships
with the galaxies
and their farthest coordinates.
Particles we'd once
written off as unattractive
reveal their masses.
We wonder at all
we are unaware of,
having to acknowledge
the shortcomings
in our own biology--
most of what's in the universe
we did not evolve to see.
Our assumptions lacking,
the sum of
what has been perceived,
will never be enough
to slow the growth
of our space-time.
Whether round or flat,
there is no way
it could collapse,
or slow down enough
to explain our current
trajectory.
There is some peace
in this:
as space continues
to expand,
time will stretch
along with it--
a Never-Ending Story,
an endless expanse.
We will have
the rest of life
to uncover it.
But what of
Friedmann's three fates?
Must there be
another way
our universe is expanding?
Are there other matters
unaccounted for?
Or elusive dark energies
with which we are
timidly interacting?
New observers describe
an incrementing rate--
gravity is not slowing us down.
We are picking up pace,
space-time growing
at an exponential rate--
except when caught
on the Horizon,
where physics unravels,
where space and time
switch place.
Was Einstein right
about anti-gravity?
Must we fudge our way
to an understanding,
base our knowledge
and new technology
on unproven facts
and lazy loading?
Or is the truth still
hiding in the shadows
between the stars,
playing games with our heart--
waiting for those
patient and persistent
eager-eyed
cryptic souls
to see what others
have yet to imagine.
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