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.