In the first breath,
when our quanta
were lined up in pairs
and shaking hands,
the cosmic seed
erupted with violence.
Perpetual particles,
blasted through
space over time,
and left this atomic web
that expands to converge,
dissolves to reshape,
into infinite patterns…
into transient forms.
Forms are sculpted
by the ceaseless
building and branching
of chances and choices–
of cause and effect–
collapsing into structure,
actualizing into being–
Our beings.
In these carbon containers,
our particles find home together,
shaking hands once again…
all finally here,
all inevitably perfect,
as they rejoin and rejoice
in the same cosmic instant.
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Author:
FallingAwake2 (
Offline)
- Published: August 23rd, 2025 01:32
- Comment from author about the poem: for someone's birthday
- Category: Love
- Views: 2
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