Message in a Bottle

Voyager was a bottle,
and it carried a message inside,
a gold disc,
ductile, malleable,
conducting bits of science
and art to the stars,
already quaint in our eyes,
in our world of wireless
everything except radio.

And now Mr Hawking warns
us that was a mistake,
as if some weren't already
thinking the same,
like Mr Leinster,
a science fiction writer
of the forties,
who imagined two space-faring
civilizations meeting in space,
and then covering the trail
back to their respective worlds.

Do we need to fear the unknown?
Aren't the odds so
(pardon the pun) astronomical
that we needn't worry?
A bit of hopeful thinking
just in case,
isn't that what a message
in a bottle is?

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the "message in a bottle" prompt at Writer's Island.