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POEM: Tiny Window





That speck of sand
that you can barely see
is a planet to the particle
that sits on either side of it,

awaiting a wave form collapse.



Your mind can’t roam out
to the tip of the spiral arm–
let alone to the leading edge
of space as it accelerates into…



5 billion years or 5,000,
it’s all the same to you.



And anything less than
a microsecond isn’t worth
being called time–

[though it’s half a life time for muonium.]



Such a tiny window
through which to seek
the sum of all knowledge.


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