trillions of cells, billions of atoms . . .

Those of you who were stirred by Rod's comments on March 26 about how we consist mostly of empty space might appreciate this excerpt from the last poem in my book Ecoepic & Other Poems:



After all
There must be something
To this weird mystery
The way we sit here face to face
Each of us a talking galaxy
Of fundamental particles, a mist
A cloud of charge, of mostly empty space
Yet somehow disposed
to love and embrace
to laugh and gesticulate
Like swarms of gnats
We hover close and speculate
On what might happen when
Our swarms disintegrate . .

http://www.lulu.com/ingham