Day Twenty-four

We are less matter than space

There’s space between
subatomic particles
filling the unknown
between protons and
neutron, up quark and
down quarks

Places so small, unseen
to the natural eye,
I wonder if it exists at all.

It does, scientists
have proof.

And I am there,
a piece of me, a part
of you, where we dance
and dream, and be.

Author’s Note:

Prompt from NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo:

“And now for our daily prompt (optional, as always). In 1958, the philosopher/critic Gaston Bachelard wrote a book called The Poetics of Space, about the emotional relationship that people have with particular kinds of spaces – the insides of sea shells, drawers, nooks, and all the various parts of houses. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that explores a small, defined space – it could be your childhood bedroom, or the box where you keep old photos. It could be the inside of a coin purse or the recesses of an umbrella stand. Any space will do – so long as it is small, definite, and meaningful to you.”

And from questions of six year olds about “matter” and “space” and “What would happen if we didn’t have space?”