The Wonder of Existence - Part I

While sitting on my bed reading The Canterbury Tales and listening to Gounod's Faust, I caught a draft of the wonder of existence. I do not know if it can be described, but I should at least try.

First, allow me to offer some philosophical musings.

Yes, existence is a wonder in itself. Great the power to have invented it. And good as well, for any flawed being to gave given shape to such a reality would have long since taken a rage out on it and effected its destruction. And if not that, this being of power would, if sentient (how could it be otherwise?), make itself known and plunge us into a wretched servitude. For absolute power corrupts as surely as anything. And yet its power could not be absolute, for it would not have the power to be good.

(But, you may ask, what of a perfect power? Would have the ability to be evil? Possibly.)

So we exist. Without that postulate in place, nothing has meaning. And we cannot exist without something having initiated that state. Such a thing must be higher than we. After all, we cannot create something more clever than ourselves, or more powerful. Stronger perhaps, but not greater. Only intentionally could man invent a robot which would turn against him, unless there are strange, undiscovered physical principles which could alter this reality.

Therefore to create the wonder that is mankind, the higher power had to be just that: higher than the highest pinnacle of man's might and virtue. If this power still exists, it would seem advantageous to acquaint oneself with this force of good. Indeed, what else could be more important than in discovering what one's inventor designed him to be? We may form our own opinions concerning our fate, but until compared with something higher than mankind, how is one opinion to be judged better than another?

Then we exist and, at least at one time, a good higher power existed. If the power has expired since the beginning of the world, we may create our own purpose, since - beyond what we can determine from our genetic predispositions - we are unillumined as to our creator's purpose for us. But why would the inventor depart from our reality without leaving some missive for his children? He must have been capable, having brought into existence the greatest wonders we can perceive. Did he perish in the travails of creation? Yet still he could have left a mark even more easily deciphered than the grandeur of the work of his hands, unless his end took him by surprise, which is scarcely in keeping with the unsurpassed intelligence and power with which we have since credited him.

Suppose then that this power did survive the first act of his of which we are aware. If that is the case, the above concerning knowing him holds true.

I haven't quite decided what I'll write in Part II. Perhaps a combination of description and poetry - something to express emotionally this great wonder.

Anywho, feel free to comment on and correct the above.