It is trivial to question matters
Of the big and small
For within geometric progression
We find that every size has an origin
Or starting point from wence it grows
Like the spinning fractal that fractures
And divides itself into slightly altered
Versions of its original self
Yet somehow still maintaining the intricacy
That would make Pythagoras blush
As he contemplates the diagonals
That separates the stars on the grandest scales
Whereas each individual twinkle
Seemingly comprises the same amount of space
To the eye untrained to experience
A universe larger than the mind can comprehend
No,
These ruminations are trivial
Because at the heart of every idea
Lay the very precept upon which life itself is founded
Where the import of every single inquiry
Will always be
The question itself
Not just its complexity