La Misma Nada

Would anyone say that the thin stuff of space intends to sin?
Are those pits of light we see at night in clean air in error?
Should we wince at the wickedness of the rocks we lean against?

You know the answers, and it's only distaste for the answers,
The unanthropomorphicized emptiness answers suggest
Even to wildly anthropic minds, that alters your best guess.

And yet. The simplest combinatory molecules are you.
You are the thin stuff of space, the scorched stars, rocky earth made flesh.
Everything clever as everything. Let nothing you bereft.