The landscape of my ceiling (a poem)

A burst of activity early this morning…

Atoms bustling between vast spaces
my imagination can only hint at

Is it there just because I see it?

The world is a concrete place
open to question

Right answers are in short supply
if you listen to the right people

What happens in those spaces
to box us in such narrow confines?

There’s no wonder anymore
beyond the landscape of my ceiling

captured in a skyward stare

(26 December 2015)