Atoms and Void

Atoms and Void

There is no body without void – Epicurus

You’d have thought it endless, Lucretius—

The laminar descent of atoms

Falling through a void serene and mute,

Each atom unhurried, alone,

Descending at a constant pace,

Unmoved by force, untouched by will,

No dawn to break their quiet fall,

No god to stir the silent dark.

But then—a swerve, a subtle bend,

Two atoms veer, incline, and meet,

A fragile sign of nascent will,

A fracture within fate’s perfect scheme,

A tremor in necessity.

Another swerve, and then one more,

A dance begins, a restless chase—

Three, four, then countless whirl and spin,

They pirouette to compound form,

And weave our world from motion’s thread—

The sun and stars, the planets too.

And we, the echoes of that swerve,

Bear out our own trajectories,

Forging substance out of chance,

And gleaning light from deepest shade.

II

In mute abyss,

before all form,

we stake our claim

to drift, unbound.

To shape our fates

through sovereign will,

let each retain

a private space.

Yet through this gulf,

we drift, we search,

drawn by a spark

that pulses deep.

A light that stirs

what once lay still—

a sudden clash,

two nomads meet.

And in that flash,

a bond ignites,

a fragile thread

against the void.

Soon others come

in hungry chase,

they press and pull

into our orbit.

Two turns to many—

mass and might

now weigh upon

what once was full.

Inevitable:

we bend, we break,

we loosen, drift,

we fall apart.

Each spark must fly

to its own core.

Alone again,

we arc, we roam.

Our paths unmarked,

our steps unclaimed,

we pulse anew

where fresh pull lies.

Yet if some hour

of sovereign rise

should draw us close,

align our stars—

we’ll craft anew

a fierce design,

luminous, bold,

to outlast time.