Physicists claim the universe is shaped
\nlike a soccer ball, and we are inside, with holograms
\ncoating the boundaries,\u00a0 projecting all possible angles of view,
\nindividual and complete like Indra\u2019s net.
\nPhysicists claim that black holes extrude through the walls of space-time
\nlike scattered spikes that can suck us out
\nof this universe to be birthed into another
\n(could we but survive the trip).<\/p>\n
Physicists trumpet dark matter and dark energy,
\nplaces so black that nothing appears to exist.
\nYet neutrinos that no one has seen pour through the gaps
\nin the known particles each second, for unknown reasons,
\nwithout witness, outside the range of sight, unfelt.
\nWhy do they exist? Their only known property is
\nto bounce back when they are compressed.
\nDid neutrinos force the Big Bang? Do they drive expansion?<\/p>\n
Gloriously, we, whatever we are,
\nevolved for this world and time,
\nsmall bags of water, composed of nothing
\nbut billions of competing colonies of bacteria
\nmade from particles of stardust.<\/p>\n
We are animated by a life vibration no one comprehends,
\nthat seems like music in constant motion.
\nWe are eternity knowing itself as separation from oneness.
\nWe have senses to experience this life, so knowledge blooms.
\nThere is light, there is dissonance, there is movement,
\nthere is separation from other things.
\nThis is what it means to live.<\/p>\n
We have sensors.<\/p>\n
Quivering waves from space fill our ears with sounds
\nmade in the ancient past, taking light years to arrive.
\nThe shock waves of star births and atoms colliding,
\nof movement and the pulsing of galaxies,
\nof the slow drumming of black holes.
\nEven war cries and moans of devastation,
\nhymns of praise and nursery songs once sung
\nreverberate indefinitely through space,
\ncreating, always creating.
\nWe are moved to align and vibrate in reply,
\nlike human Chladni plates.<\/p>\n
Eyes and brains perceive fractured waves of light bouncing
\nand give the light names like crimson, gold and sky blue.
\nWe give textures names like rough, smooth, gritty, soft, wet.
\nLabel the tastes of bitter and sweet, sour and salt,
\ndefine the objects we start mouthing as infants.
\nThe smells of sweet lilacs and hyacinth, of roses and lemons,
\nof urine and death, saturate us with emotion
\nand codify remembered experiences.
\nThe senses define our experiences.
\nThey are our puppet masters.<\/p>\n
We were made for this world and this time,
\ninconsequential individuations of random origin.
\nWe ride this elegant, blue planet whose beauty we uncovered
\nas we floated through space, and it exists because
\ncompeting colonies of bacteria formed from stardust evolved
\nto coalesce here, and experience shared explosions of sound
\nand vivid eruptions of colored light in this one location.<\/p>\n
This small water planet rampant with life,
\nmade real and unique by our angles of view,
\nis the unlikely edge of the universe.
\nWe are learning it is our creation.
\nWe are the creating creators and the created creation.
\nWe are uniquely made to know it,
\nand it will swallow us in the end.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Physicists claim the universe is shaped like a soccer ball, and we are inside, with holograms coating the boundaries,\u00a0 projecting all possible angles of view, individual and complete like Indra\u2019s net. Physicists claim that black holes extrude through the walls of space-time like scattered spikes…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1075,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[882,250,687],"class_list":["post-54401","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","tag-creation","tag-hour-15","tag-universe"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/54401","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1075"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=54401"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/54401\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":54814,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/54401\/revisions\/54814"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=54401"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=54401"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=54401"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}