Poem by Maq
When I muse on creation, I see nature—near and vast,
Deep in thought, I sense atoms—within and beyond.
The universe, finite yet infinite—a riddle cast.
What came before the dawn? In what time, what place?
A singular seed, a dual rift, or a multipolar race?
Something from nothing, or nothing’s silent claim?
Motion in stillness, a hum in quiet’s frame,
Tangible forms—or shades we cannot hold,
Felt by the senses—or past their threshold.
Fusion’s fire, fission’s split, or chance’s aim?
Maq Masi Blog 
Leave a comment