Small Galaxy
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| (Picture of bone cells found here) |
Not as a solid substance but a mesh
Of atoms in their rich complexity
Forming the pattern of my bone and flesh.
Small solar systems are my eyes.
Muscle and sinew are composed of air.
Like comets flashing through the evening skies
My blood runs, ordered, arrogant, and fair.
Ten lifetimes distant is the nearest star,
And yet within my body, firm as wood,
Proton and electron separate are.
Bone is more fluid than my coursing blood.
What plan had God, so strict and so impassioned
When he an island universe my body fashioned?
~Madeleine L'Engle
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