The Cosmos

In three to five variables

I understand the cosmos.

I watch the billions of life spans,

and see the mortality of stars.

I am a quark

when I stand in the shade of the sun,

the milky way an atom

in the ocean of the universe.

I am a thought

more tangible than space,

but am a tissue in the flame

when compared to Earth’s iron core.

There is no place the same as Earth,

but the firmament feels like carbon copy

dots we call the constellations,

and I am a wanderer amidst the wonders,

confined to 760 mmHg and

20.8 percent O2, in a body where H2O and

ATP resides within my cells,

Fe(II) needs to be Fe(III), and back again.

The way I think, react, and feel

depends on Na+, K+, and the potential between

nerves. Place electrons within a box—

energies and waves, and quantum particles.

A bead of sand melting in the sun

is as unnoticed as the ant that dies in the grass

but still as lonely as I feel under the cold,

hard skies, lost within the mazes of solar systems,

little eyes two years curious,

alight like a supernova and rush towards my arms

with the energy of molecules breaking and bonding,

I hug him tight. I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.