I know, I know, the universe is so big that you can’t be significant.
So, let’s go small.

Let two grains of sand rest in your hand an inch apart.
A single silicon atom in one of those grains is .2 nanometers in diameter,
Or one two-hundred billionth of an inch.
That’s 100 thousand times the size of a proton in the middle of that silicon atom,
And the proton is 1835 times the size of an electron spinning around it at 1400 miles per second.
Electrons may be made of smaller entities called preons, which may be indivisible,
But at this point, who’s counting? In terms of tinyness, you had me at nanometer.

Now isolate in your mind one of those almost-infinitely-itsy-bitsy preons
And bestow it with consciousness.
Tell it that the proton it’s spinning around is, by your scale, 113 miles away,
That the other grain of sand in your hand is 227 million miles away,
That another bit of grit near your feet is 50 billion miles away,
And my calculator won’t even do the math on a grain of sand in, say, New Zealand.

Now tell the preon it is loved and its existence has meaning. Its boggled little mind
Will have difficulty with this unless you explain patiently that
Relative size, big or small, has no relation whatsoever to significance.
The preon will listen to you
Because, to it, you are
Unimaginably enormous
And, therefore, significant.

Listen to the poet read and discuss this poem on the Reformed Journal Podcast.

Photo by Cristian Palmer on Unsplash