I, who am weightless
and falling to earth, eternal
in the void’s tumbling illusion,
understand yellowing stem
and green leaf to be no more
than imitations of solidity
in the black emptiness
and the coagulated energy
we believe we are made of.
I’m fascinated, as ever, by the mysteries of the cosmos and all the illusions we conjure as we try to describe our place in it. We have substance yet we are falling through eternity. All matter is a jumble of atoms and the space inside them. All things, living or inanimate, our very selves, are made, as Carl Sagan said, of star stuff and deeper still of the chaos of creation at their cores.
We go on believing…
and falling to earth, eternal
in the void’s tumbling illusion,
understand yellowing stem
and green leaf to be no more
than imitations of solidity
in the black emptiness
and the coagulated energy
we believe we are made of.
© BH, 2022
I’m fascinated, as ever, by the mysteries of the cosmos and all the illusions we conjure as we try to describe our place in it. We have substance yet we are falling through eternity. All matter is a jumble of atoms and the space inside them. All things, living or inanimate, our very selves, are made, as Carl Sagan said, of star stuff and deeper still of the chaos of creation at their cores.
We go on believing…
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